A Night To Remember
by ThemSoundWaves
Summary: A lot of things can happen in one night. Some things are memorable others you wouldn't want to touch with a ten foot pole. But a drunk Prowl? That's memorable and Jazz is determined to get just that- A drunk Prowl. But keep in mind... Not all nights turn out like Cinderella. And not all nights turn out as planned, either. *T* Rating will go up.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: this is my first detailed J/P story, so go easy on me! I was originally going to have it be a one shot, but broke it off into a Two-Shot (if there's even such a thing) because both parts are a bit long. Anyway, tell me what you think!**

**Summery: **

**One thing Jazz wanted to see before he offlined: a drunk Prowl, no one had ever seen the Paraxian drink High-Grade, but Jazz is determined. Setting up the party was easy. But getting Prowl to show up? Not a walk in the park... Someones going to make themselves a fool, expect the unexpected. Smut! M! •Two shot• **

**Warnings: Jazz acting serous.**

**Desclaimer: I do not own transformers or any of the characters in this story, I only own the plot.**

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><p><strong>A Night To Remember. Part One.<strong>

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><p>Optics glued to the mech before him, Jazz folded his arms across the blue of his chassis, his visor was darker then its normal lively blue, he copied Optimus's trademark 'high up' stance, his lips weren't set in his usual smile, but set in a firm line as he attempted- and succeeded in looking dead serous.<p>

In front of him stood none other then Sideswipe, one of the infamous twins, and in front of Sideswipe was one the crews youngest, and best snipers, Bluestreak.

Jazz listened and watched with mild interest as Sideswipe chatted shamelessly, and proudly -_may he add_- to the sniper about a recent battle and a very enduring Jet Judo match, which ended with Sideswipe performing one of his most 'astonishing' moves, that involved him jumping from Skywarp's back at a stunning eighty foot hight. Sideswipe then proceeded in doing an 'amazing' landing with a classic, 'duck and roll.'

Jazz was defiantly impressed, it had been dangerous and stupid, but it was certainly something to see, imagine, a little red dot plummeting towards earth at breaking speeds? But of course, Ratchet had a fit afterwords. Giving, the mech didn't leave completely unsacaved.

The entire show was worth ten points, _really_.

Bluestreak bobbled his head his face scrunched up with excitement while the red twin bragged, his door wings wobbled behind him like an uncontrolled fan, beating against the air as he mumbled high-pitched 'yeahs'?' And 'no ways!' Jazz couldn't tell if the sniper was actually engrossed in his -_obvious_- crushes words, or just pretending to be so excited in order to boast Sideswipes growing ego.

"I felt like a seeker, that was... Until I saw the ground coming closer, and I realized, Holy slag, Im gonna die! That's when an idea hit me..."

Jazz purposely tuned down his Audios, not intent on listening to the rest of the front liners sentence, neither 'bots noticed Jazz's action as he lifted a servo and dialed his audio receptor, pit, he was standing almost inches away from Sideswipes back! it was sad, honestly! How could Sideswipe not notice him? Well- Sideswipe wasn't special ops, he couldn't really blame him if he didn't sense Jazz standing there, but when the saboteur moved, Sideswipe still didn't detect anything! he must have been more absorbed in the conversation then the white mech originally thought.

Pit, If Jazz vented hard enough, he was sure the air would breeze against Sideswipes neck, but would he even notice that, either? And Bluestreak, the mech was facing in his direction for Primus' sake! Surly Jazz wasn't that sneaky?

Jazz smiled thoughtfully, well, he was head of special ops for a reason, he could sneak up on anyone! Well, maybe not everyone, Prowl was still hard to catch off guard...

A small knot of anticipation ran deep in his spark, rushing through his wires as he continued to keep up his 'serous' façade, basically stalking the red twin, it was hard work for the normally high-strung, outgoing bot.

How in the name of Primus could Prowl stand to be so serous all the time? Jazz could barley keep it up for five minuets! . . .But in a way, Prowls somber attitude was one of the main reasons the tactician caught Jazz's optics.

It wasn't a secret on the Ark that Jazz had a crush on Prowl, pit, The mech certainly talked about the TIC enough, wether it was because of the black and whites' beautifully elegant moves on the battlefield, or his vast capacity and stunning planning, Jazz didn't know, but there was something about Prowl that hooked Jazz right in. It was weird, right? The only one who didn't seem to notice was Prowl himself, and to think! They were complete opposites, black and white, light and dark. Angel and demon...

_Opposites attract_.

Jazz resisted the urge to snort at his thought, but it pretty much summed everything up.

Magnets were the perfect example, north and south, the two connected, it had only fueled Jazz's interest. He had to admit that Prowl was one of the saboteur's best friends. And the only 'bot to actually keep hold of his interests.

While Jazz thought, he waited patiently for Sideswipe to finished his story, well, somewhat patiently, he could probably go on for hours, like a fangirl talking about her fandom, he didn't know how long he would be able to keep up his disguise.

Maybe Sideswipe was hanging around Bluestreak, just a little.. to.. much?

And finally, there was a time came in their conversation where a pregnant pause was found, both Bots looking at each other with a sickening amount of adoration, Jazz took that as his key to speak up.

"Sides, ah need ya help."

It was funny, honestly! the way Sideswipe jerked around as if he were slapped, hands thrown up into fists before his faceplate, ready to defend himself. Jazz couldn't help the grin that broke out on his lip plates, Sideswipe moved to fast for his own processor to handle, _he even swayed!_

"J-Jazz!" Sideswipe exclaimed, his tone embarrassed, he backed up a bit, bumping up against Bluestreak who, put both servos on Swideswipes shoulders and moved him slightly to the left, peeking out from behind him to see who spoke, as if the accent wasn't enough to go by.

"Oh hey Jazz! How are you? ...Are you okay? You look a little serous. Something big going on? Wait, how long have you been standing there? I'm sooo sorry if you were waiting! You see, me and Sides were talking about his epic Jet judo moves and-"

_Sides and I. _

Wait, since when did he care about Grammar?

_Damn it Prowler! Ya gettin' ta me!_

"Hey Blue, ah'm fine." Jazz cut in, unable to hold back a smile at the younglings rambling. "Ah've been standin' here fer about... Ten minuets? An' its okay. No need ta get worried."

Jazz couldn't hold up his serous stance any longer, he let it drop, his visor brightening, smile resurfacing, arms dropping to his sides, one hand on his hip.

"But Ah was hopin' tha' Sides could help meh out with somethin'" Jazz continued, moving his gaze from Bluestreak to Sideswipe, who had shrugged off the snipers touch, standing tall acting like his strong, brave ego hadn't just been broken.

"Couldja help a mech out?" His tone was laced with a small bit of begging, showing that whatever the saboteur needed, it was important. For effect, Jazz put on his best 'pleeeease' smile, which was directed at the red terror twin who shot a sloppy grin back.

"Sure, what could I do for ya?" Sideswipe asked, getting all professional. His 'dealers tone.' Present.

Bluestreak, obviously seeing this as his que to leave, waved Jazz and Sideswipe off and trotted his way to the far end of the rec. room, wings bouncing, joining Smokescreen and Hound in conversation.

"Ah'm wonderin' If ya could perhaps, get Primes approval for an 'officer' party."

Sideswipe cocked an optic ridge, putting a finger to his chin to look deep in thought, he hummed.

"I could do that, what kind of party are we looking for? Calm, professional, or wild and crazy." Sideswipe seemed more attuned to the latter. His voice rising just a decimal to show his probably growing excitement at the thought of another wild party like the one they had a few months ago.

Jazz clapped, then he began rubbing his servos together, taking a deep, hissing vent, he side stepped so he was closer to the rec. rooms walls, leaning against it, his cool, collected posture rising.

"Wild an' crazy is wha' ah'm lookin' for." The white mech said with a knowing smirk.

"There's gatta be music tho'" Jazz continued. "Earth music, fast at tha' start, slow at the end, ya know what ah'm sayin'?"

Sideswipe nodded, his optics dimming as if making a mental note.

"When? And what for?" Sideswipe quarried, moving to lean against the wall beside the saboteur, he wasn't looking at Jazz, and Jazz wasn't looking at Sideswipe, as if trying to keep it discrete, like a deal being made in public, they went unnoticed.

"As soon as possible, ah'm gonna accomplish tha' impossible." Jazz replied smugly, tossing his head a little.

Seeming interested, Sideswipes helm casted down, Jazz's processor was already running through plans and ways to accomplish them. Both Autobots tried to hold onto their innocent, 'we aint doin' nothin'' attitude. Although, it was more for show then anything.

"'Accomplish the impossible'?" The red mech quoted, he even went as far as using his fingers to air quote.

"Whatcha' going to do?" Sideswipe intoned deeply, quietly, masking their conversation by turning his servos over and looking at them as if they were the most intresting thing in the world, Jazz, however, snickered, knowing he had the pranksters full, and undivided attention.

He finally turned to look at Sideswipe, who, had to have sensed Jazz's gaze, he looked up, his optics twinkling dangerously with mirth, mirroring the almost excited shine in Jazz's visor. With a breathy laugh, Jazz whispered, leaning in towards Sideswipe.

"Ah'm gonna get Prowl drunk."

There was a second of silence in which Jazz could practically see Sideswipes processor mulling the white mechs words over, then, it all clicked into place.

Sideswipe abruptly broke out laughing, a laugh that tore apart their secretive aura and riveted along the walls of the Rec. room, causing the area's conversations to cease, at this, the smirk on Jazz's lip plates vanished, an unimpressed frown forming.

"Ya don' think ah can do it?" Jazz prompted, a challenge set in his tone, Sideswipe, who was bent over, immaturely slapping one of his knees, struggled for breath as his vocalizer just seemed to glitch out, making unreasonable and unneeded _zzftt_ and _krrzzt_ sounds.

"Jazz... This... This is _Prowl_ were talking about, you _can't_ be serous." Sideswipe wheezed, leaning up, only to lean back against the wall, setting his servos on his tanks, small breathy rumbling chuckles admitted from the red twins vents. His engine chuttered softly in tune to his breathy chortles.

Jazz however, was being completely serous, once again, his visor darkened, arms coming up to cross before his chassis. He stared at Sideswipes helm, to show him that yes, he was indeed serous.

Sideswipe managed to get himself under control, optics wondering around the rec room, a silly grin on his face, every now and then he would snort at the mere thought of Prowl being intoxicated.

The look Jazz shot him continued to go unnoticed by the red 'bot as the seconds ticked by and the room's inhabitance slowly began their chattering again, deeming whatever Jazz and Sideswipe were doing no longer interesting.

And still, Jazz's visor glared almost heatedly at the side if Sideswipes helm until he actually turned to look at Jazz, confused on why the mech wasn't laughing with along with him and why the air suddenly became tense.

A sharp, suprised 'nuuh' sound escaped Sideswipes throat when he came face to face with a now stoic, deadpan Jazz, when did Jazz manage to get so close to him?

Instinctively, Sidewipes hands came up to defend himself, should the mech turn to violence.

Neither bot said a word, both frozen in their respective positions, finally, Sideswipe blinked.

"You are serous, aren't you?"

"Ah am." Jazz monotoned with a brisk nod. Slowly the red twins hands came down to his sides, then he dusted off 'dirt' from his leg plates, trying to catch his cool.

Once the 'dust' was gone from the red twins polished leg plaiting, he stood up strait, casting one last disbelieving look at Jazz. However the mech still stuck out his servo.

"Well then... Lets get started?"

Jazz took Sideswipes hand, a longing grin pulling on his lips.

"Lets."

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><p>It had been a little too quiet for the past two days, although, the absence of pranking never hurt the TIC, it was certainly suspicious.<p>

However, there was still _plenty_ of work to be done, stacks of un-reviewed data pads cluttered his normally organized desk, half of them were from RedAlert, no doubt about some minor security updates or something within those boundaries.

But the twins lack of visits to his office had the mech thinking. Normally, when someone abruptly stopped their trend or went quiet, it either meant one, something was wrong. Or two, something big was in the planning.

Prowl knew better, so he chose the latter.

The tactician chewed on the end of his stylus as he pondered over all the different types of punishments he could dish out to the terror twins after whatever they were planning was said and done.

He could go with the more subtle punishments, like six hours brig time, or monitor duty.

...Or, he could kick it up a notch and go with the treatments he knew the two mechs hated, lets say, stick them in with RedAlert for three days? Confiscate all their high-grade then put them on janitor duty for five days strait? Maybe he could up their patrol hours to sixteen instead of five?

The possibilities were endless.

While Prowl mulled over his vireos torture methods for the front liners, the end of his stylus breaking off went unnoticed, that was, until the black, cheep metal found its way down Prowls throat.

Prowl choked, vents hitching as he leaned foreword to hack out the chewed up metal, said metal landed on his desk with a small clink, Prowl blinked, trying to understand just how that had happened.

Shaking his helm, he used a servo to sweep the stylus tip off his desk and into the trash bin, he took a long, calculating look at the rest of his pen before tossing it in after the rest of it.

Opening a narrow, long drawer on his desk Prowl pulled out another Stylus, looming over his work table once again, looking over the Datapad before him.

'_It is of great concern that we must acquire new equipment for our security, the cameras we have now seem to run low on battery life more often or randomly glitch, this is a high risk! We can't expect to fend off let's say, one of Soundwaves cassettes if we can't spot where its at? Furthermore, I'm suggesting that-'_

Prowl sighed, staring down at the Datapad that, no longer held his interest, his thoughts kept trailing back to those pit-spawned twins, he wanted to know what they were planning, who was going to get pranked, and alert Prime before they even have a chance to finish it.

Swiping RedAlerts note to the side, Prowl opened up a document, one that Prowl had found himself constantly adding onto.

'_Pranks and punishments_.'

He scrolled down to the bottom of the page which, took longer then one would expect, just as he was about to set his pen down to type more, a knock sounded at his door, a knock that the TIC knew.

_Knock, knock. Pause, tap, tap. Pause_.

There was only one mech on the Ark that would knock to a beat.

_Knock, knock. Pause, tap, tap. Pause_

"Come in, Jazz"

The door cracked open a bit as the saboteur poked his helm in, he was smiling, like always, a smile that, although Prowl would never admit, he loved to see.

"Awh, how'd ya know it was meh?" Jazz pouted, an adorable frown pulling his lips down, Prowl had to blink in order to gain his composure.

"You are the only one on the base that knocks in tune to a beat." The TIC told Jazz. Said mech pursed his lip plates.

"Ah, well..." He looked down, seeming a bit shy, Prowl didn't question it, but it had to have been the first time he had ever seen Jazz look shy.

"What is it you-"

"Ah'm a try again, Kay?" Jazz cut in, removing his helm from the door and closing it slightly, he then opened it again, peeking back in.

"Try what ag-"

"Pretend ah wasn't here, okay?" Prowl rolled his optics at Jazz's antics, and his second interruption, his door wings slowly bobbing up to their normal 'V' position. It wasn't long before another Knock sounded at his door.

_Knock knock_.

There was a second of silence, where, it seemed Jazz couldn't hold himself together, because after those two harmless knocks, the door was suddenly bombarded with louder knocks, as if Jazz was slapping his palm against the door in every place he could reach.

Prowl sighed out, tapping his pen against his desk as the loud drumming continued for a couple seconds, seriously, was the saboteur flopping his body against his door?

He wouldn't doubt it.

To be honest, Prowl liked the other way better, because at least then he could tell it was Jazz, instead of now, whereas it sounded like someone was getting murdered against his door.

Pinching the bridge of his nasal factory, Prowl sighed. It seemed he was doing that a lot now a days.

"Come in."

The door flew open with such force that once it hit the wall, the Paraxian jumped, just a bit, Jazz came sauntering in, not even bothering to close the door.

"Hey Prowler!" Jazz hummed loudly, the TIC shot the unstable bot a look, rubbing where his temple would have been if he were human, he picked up those moves from the organics.

"Hello Jazz." Jazz seemed to turn sneaky on Prowl, he squatted by the side of Prowls desk, his helm tilted down a bit.

"Didja know it was meh tha' time?" Jazz asked lowly, playfully. Prowl continued to rub at his forehelm, but humored his friend all the same.

"No Jazz. I did not."

He didn't have time for this, did Jazz even see the number of datapads on his desk? He had only gotten through five of them, there was at least seven more. But of course, Jazz always had a habit of pulling the tactician from his work, sometimes at the worse times when the mech needed to have them done.

Like now, for instance.

"So..." Jazz drawled musically, his visor trailing over the TIC's frame, Prowl, for his part, finally looked over to address the mech.

The saboteur looked so at ease, crouching like that, elbows on his legs, servos dangling off, elegant. He Prowls optics moved up the mechs body, over his rounded chassis, his faceplates and finally, his visor, where Prowl couldn't will himself to look away.

"What do you need, Jazz?" Prowl asked softly, sucking in air through his vents quietly, Jazz tilted his head to the side and grinned, tapping a digit against his knee.

"Well, ah was wonderin' ya always workin' an there's a nice officer party tonight, ah wanted ya to come..." With me. The two words were left out, but a perfect way to complete the sentence, Prowl huffed, turning from the welcoming blue of his friends visor to stare at his Datapad, it seemed when Jazz was around, everything else was forgotten.

"I don't know, Jazz, there is so much work to be done-"

"Frag work." Jazz cut in, three times interrupting, may Prowl add. Jazz lifted up Prowls Datapad, ignoring the door wingers protests and tossed it carelessly to the other side of the room.

"Come on, fer meh?" Jazz pleaded, his hands balling in front of him, visor twinkling pleadingly. Prowl found he couldn't repremend Jazz's actions when he could almost see the white mechs optic ridges bent down over his optics, the perfect sparkling beg.

"Jazz..." Prowl sighed out, scrubbing at his face. Was he actually thinking it over? Damn that cute look to the pit.

"_Pleeeease_ Prowler! Ah wan't ya ta have a break! Ya've been working nonstop for tha' pas' three days, please?"

The way Jazz spoke, the way his hands bobbed before him in a begging manner had the tacticians walls break, he vented hard, dropping his stylus into its respective drawer.

It must be important for Jazz to reduce himself to begging.

"I'll see what I can do." Prowl monotoned, a small smile spreading on his lips when he saw his friends visor brighten to almost white. Before the black and white could even process what was going on, Jazz leapt from his sitting position and pressed a sloppy, fast kiss to Prowls cheek.

"Thank ya Prowler! Ya won't regret it!"

And then Jazz left, fast as lightning, leaving Prowl to stare at the spot Jazz had been, jaw slightly agape as his fingers clenched almost unnoticeable, as if trying to hold onto something.

_Did Jazz just?_

Shaking his helm, Prowl stood from his chair and shut the door Jazz had left open once again, that's when everything hit him.

A party? _That's_ what the twins were planning?

**TBC...**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: well, I have news, I'm not sure if its good or bad, but to me it's good!**

**You see- I've been having so much fun writing this, and I've been coming up with ideas to bring this 'Two shot' out further you see...**

**Well, its actually going ton longer then two chapters, because, well, the whole drunk scene is over 7k words and I'm just going to space it out, and so, I'm going to actually push further with this fanfiction. Simply because this is all I think about!**

**I want to know your thoughts, should I stretch it out? Or keep it as just a short story? **

**Oh and big thank you to all know reviewed and alerted for the last part! It was shocking to see so many! Anyway on with the story!**

**Warnings: Jazz being romantic, Prowl drinking High Grade. **

**Rating: T.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own transformers or any of the characters in this story I only own the plot. **

**Songs: **

**You and I- Lifehouse.**

**Good girls gone bad- 3OH!3**

**Hey!- 3OH!3**

**Crazy train- Ozzy Osborn.**

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><p><strong>A Night To Remember Part Two.<strong>

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><p>Jazz left Prowls office with a skip to his step, a blithe smile on his face, getting Prowl to come, Surprisingly, wasn't as hard as the white mech originally thought. However— Yes, of course, there was always a downfall to the situation.<p>

However, there was still a few options the cursor could take, one, he could call up Jazz and tell him that he was needed elsewhere, two, Prowl could easily forget about the time and work right through the party, and three, the TIC could just not show up and hide.

Jazz would still find him, though, there was absolutely no place that mech could hide from him. Jazz would end up finding him eventually, and when he did, he would drag that mech by his door wings into the rec. room.

Finding himself in a particularly good mood, Jazz decided to tune in his radio that was built into his helm, honestly, he didn't know what he would do without it, no music is no life.

Jovially Jazz continued his happy-peppy step towards well— he didn't quite know where to, his processor was in a jumble, anticipation and longing fighting a harsh battle inside his spark, he didn't know what to think. He wanted to jump for joy that Prowl had basically accepted his invitation, he also wanted snicker, thinking by the time this night passed, he was hoping to see Prowl during his most vulnerable state.

Jazz continued to saucily toss his helm side to side as he practically danced into his quarters, the first thing he did when he entered his room, and the doors closed behind him, was jump strait into the air, pumping his fists fast, high pitch femmish squeals of excitement escaping his throat, unable to form an actual sentence with just how much excitement was racing through him.

He continued to dance around his room, tiding things up like a self-confident maid, if things turned out the way he was thinking, he wouldn't want his room to look a mess.

Jazz giggled, an adroit smirk playing on his lips, Jazz sauntered into his private wash racks, walking right to his shower to turn the hot water on, to back up a few paces until he caught his face in the mirror hanging from the wall, he jerked his helm up in greeting to his reflection, then, turned completely towards the mirror, touching different parts of his face as he examined himself.

"Hey Prowler." He drawled sexily to himself, well his mirror self, he sent a dashing grin at his reflection, as well as a blink of his visor in a wink.

"Ya got a bandaid?" He snickered, biting his bottom lip to keep himself from laughing at just how stupid he probably looked right then, however, that thought didn't hinder the mech from leaning in towards his refective self, flicking his glossia over his lips.

"'Cause ah tripped, Fallin' for ya." A moment of silence, then Jazz laughed out loud, snapping his fingers once.

"Ooo, tha' was good, good one Jazz mech, ya pretty smooth." Jazz continued to laugh at himself while he turned for the shower.

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><p>Prowl leaned against the back of his chair, one foot slowly turning the chair side to side in a consistent manor, an ever present stylus was trapped between his fingers in one hand, which was placed on the side of his helm, his elbow was stationed lazily on the arms of the chair. Prowl flicked the stylus against his helm a few pointless times.<p>

The mech stared at the monitor before him, which was turned off, black, his own slightly distorted appearance filtered back to him, causing him to frown.

Slowly, Prowls lips lifted up into a small, hardly there smile, but the reflection he saw back seemed to disappoint the mech, because the smile fled and was dropped into an even deeper frown then before.

Something caused the TIC to try again, he twiddled the stylus in his hand as he leaned foreword, truly focused, lifting his lips again in a lopsided grin that looked completely unnatural to the tactician, unsatisfied, again, the somewhat smile disappeared from the mechs face, once again the frown resurfacing.

He didn't know who he was trying to impress, if anyone but himself, but he remained unconvinced at every try he attempted, it either looked down-right ridiculous or just plain weird.

But still, Prowl tried a few more times, until he realized that making faces at his reflection was a complete illogical thing to do, it helped him none except to see his own useless try's back, showing just how horrible the mech was at smiling.

Door wings slumping in defeat, Prowl sighed, giving up. He leaned over, dropping his pen, letting his pen roll on the desk. He flicked at it, watching as the pen rolled up almost to the top of the desk, only to roll back down where Prowls digit was waiting to flick it back up again.

He should have been working, but for some reason, he just couldn't, why? He didn't know. But since Jazz had left his office, the TIC couldn't focus on anything- well, he couldn't focus before, but now it was worse, horribly so.

And in fact, Prowl could actually say that he was... Well, bored.

Yes, Prowl was bored, he was know to be a patient 'bot, but at the moment, he found himself constantly checking his chronometer, wondering just when he had to show up to this officer party.

A scowl set on his face as he willed himself to get up from his chair, the pen falling to the floor, he paid no mind as he stared lazily at his reflection from the Monitor. What was he to do? And why exactly was he going to participate in such immature, reckless actions?

_Because of Jazz_.

Mumbling under his breath, Prowl walked steadily to his berth, then sat awkwardly, his door wings held stiffly behind him as he rubbed at his helm with a digit. He couldn't sit still but it seamed he couldn't stand for long, either.

It was stressing him out, more then his work ever did, he was afraid, more then the Decepticons ever managed to scare him... Which wasn't a lot, Prowl wasn't one to be easily afraid.

But... He was now, he had never been to a party that wasn't official, he remembered the party the Ark set a few months ago, pit, in his quarters, pratically on the other side of the ship Prowl could hear the pounding of the base and the vibrations that came with it.

Prowl wanted to dig himself in a hole, he knew the roumers that flew like a missile around the Ark about him, placing him as unemotional, cold-sparked, Stick in the— well, you get his meaning.

He wanted to prove them wrong, though, it wasn't like the TIC to actually care about what the others' said, he never did, as long as his duty to the autobots was being for-filled and everything was going according to plan, the mechs around him could say whatever they wanted to about him.

People liked Jazz, it was an abrupt thought, but it was true, not many ill-natured roumers were about Jazz, simply because the 'bot was so likable. Prowl would never say it aloud, but sometimes. Sometimes, he wanted to be like Jazz.

Jazz was amazing, he was unpredictable, untamed, deadly on the field, but a good friend, someone you could trust your life with. Someone who would always be there.

That's why Prowl liked Jazz, he was perfect, everything he himself, was not.

And Jazz, Jazz had kissed him! Was it just a sweetener to get him to come? Or was it honest? it was just a kiss on the cheek... A notion that- by the way Jazz had done it, suggested that he hadn't planned to do it.

Prowl vented, scrubbing his face with his hands as he leaned foreword. Primus, why was that mech so difficult?

What had Prowl possibly done to attract Jazz's attention? He didn't treat Jazz any different then the others, well... Maybe sometimes he was soft on him, softer then he would be to say, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe? But that was because...

It was because... Well, because Prowl liked Jazz.

Prowl cared about every soldier that was on the ark, even if he didn't show it, he didn't only use his skillful tactics to bring up the best plan for the Autobots going into battle, but he did it for the best possible survival rate as well, because he didn't want to see a 'bot offlined.

It was the reason why he worked so hard, and so long, because he had to think through his plans, check them, double check them, edit them, to make sure that whatever situation he was putting his comrades in, that they would make it out alive.

Because he cared, but he never showed it outwardly. It was his way of thanking the mechs for fighting for the Autobots cause.

But Jazz... He found himself triple

Checking Jazz's missions, making sure the bot was safe on simple patrols, he had been watching the saboteur for a while now, noting the things he did when a friend had died, as well as what he did to cheer up the others.

Prowl was impressed, more then words could explain, Jazz wormed his way easily into every Autbots sparks. And dare he say it, Jazz had found the key to his spark as well.

He wanted to impress him, he wanted to show the popular bot that yes, he had emotions, and no, he didn't only think about work, was this his chance at redemption? Would this be the night he could finally break apart the roumers? Proving to everybot, especially Jazz, that he was 'more then meets the eye' So to speak?

What if something went wrong? What if he messed up somehow? Would Jazz think him any different?

Why were his thoughts continuing to go back to Jazz! It was irritating, and at the same time... Not so much. Jazz made up almost fifty precent of what the tactician thought of throughout the day, why? He just didn't get it... He didn't like it, he wasn't used to it.

Never in his life had someone been quite literally, stuck on his mind for more then a day like Jazz was.

With a simple, unconvincing shrug Prowl told himself.

"Whatever happens happens."

He forced himself up once again, his door wings sagging behind him as he paced around his little office for a good ten minuets.

As the seconds ticked by, he just knew he couldn't take it any longer.

His door wings twitched once with irritation as he pushed himself to actually DO something besides pace around and wait for the sun to go down.

With a vent, Prowl headed for his private wash rack.

* * *

><p>He could feel the vibrations rivet throughout the hallway as he marched closer to the rec. room, his steps were a bit too fast, door wings held a bit too high, but it was as relaxed as the mech could get, being out of his element. He was nervous, oh he was, but he refused to show it outwardly.<p>

"Prowl?" The voice behind him cause the up tight TIC to spin around, his optics locked on the larger form of his leader, masking his slight jump, Prowl quickly dipped his head.

"Prime." Prowl acknowledged, Optimus's optics crinkled on the edges, showing he was smiling, a hand slowly moved rest on the uneasy paraxians shoulder.

"Are you alright, Prowl?" Optimus asked, slight concern in his voice as well as a bit of teasing, Prowl pursed his lips. Giving his leader a curt nod. How could Optimus see his nerves as if they were a flash of light in the dark?

"I suppose your heading to the rec. room as well?" Optimus quarried as he began a steady step beside his TIC, Prowl looked up towards his leader, shock evident in his optics.

"Well... Yes, you are?" Oh, maybe his voice was a little too shaky when he said that? Optimus didn't seem to notice, or he did but hid it, still his leader chuckled, shaking his helm as they stopped just before the vibrating door that lead to the rec. room.

"I am, do enjoy yourself will you Prowl? This is a useful break from your work."

With that Optimus opened the door, the sound increased a thousand fold as it barreled its way from the open portal into Prowl, forcing the mech to take a step back.

—_where ever theirs a party in the first one with a drink in the air! put em up! Put em—_

As the door swung closed in front of the Tatican the music dulled back down to a pede tingling thump, the lyrics were lost within the base. Prowl cringed.

How could Optimus stand to walk into the place when he probably couldn't hear himself think?

Prowl took a long vent, offlining his optics for a minuet as he forced the music from his processor- which worked little, he looked down the hallway he had arrived from, his mind telling him to turn right around and walk back to his quarters and finish his work, but his pedes wouldn't let him move, he was stuck.

"You going to go in or just stand there like a lazy aft?" Ratchets grumbling voice spoke from behind him, Prowl barley heard the mech over the music, but he still turned, eyeing the medic with careful optics. Wheeljack was standing beside him, leaning against the medics smaller frame, said mech waved cheerily at Prowl.

Prowl dipped his helm back, flicking his wings in dismissal as he turned back towards the door.

"Of course." He said distantly, pushing the door open.

_I'll make them good girls go bad! I'll make them-_

Prowl shut the door, turning to Wheeljack and Ratchet, Wheeljacks fins were flashing smartly, Prowl ignored them, though.

"Second thought, you may go first." Prowl stated, stepping back allowing the two mechs to move foreword, once again Prowl was assaulted by the music, this time though, it didn't cut out as the door closed, because Wheeljack held the door open for him.

"Coming?" He shouted over the music. Prowl sighed. Well, its now or never. He pushed himself foreword after the medic ad inventor.

As soon as Prowl stepped into the door the music seamed to spread out, and he had to admit, didn't sound to loud anymore, almost immediately Prowls optics sought out the one mech who was the reason he came.

He was well aware of the optics watching him and the mutters that seamed louder then the music, but Prowl ignored them, searching until his optics landed on the firmillar form that was Jazz.

The saboteur was skipping around to the music, handing cubes to different Autbots, at almost the same exact moment, Jazz's optics met Prowls, the white mech smirked, sliding his way over to the door winger.

"Here ya go mech." Jazz said cheerily, pushing a cube of high grade into Prowls hand, Prowl looked at the cube, seeming lost for words, but nodded his thanks anyway, just as fast as Jazz arrived, he was gone, off dishing out more cubes to those who were empty handed.

The music was gone now, Prowl realized, his optics lingered around the rec. room, they landed on the red form of Sideswipe- the reason for this party in the first place, no doubt, as the mech put a hand to the stage and kicked himself onto it, Blaster was already there, waiting for the mech to appear as he handed the red twin a microphone.

Sideswipe tapped it twice.

"Helllooooo mechs!" the front liner drawled into the microphone, with a smirk, happy with the silence that followed his statement, Sideswipe continued. "Now, Before I begin, i'd like to say first hand that this party IS approved by Optimus himself! This is an officer party where we recognize the officers. yada, yada." Sideswipe waved his hand dismissively.

"Since we all have arrived, I'd like to say. HAPPY FIRST OFFICER PARTY EVERYONE!"

A few 'bots cheered loudly while some, like Optimus himself who was situated in the back lifted his glass up optics scrunched in a way one would know he was smiling. Prowl stepped somewhat away from the door, closer to the table where Jazz was hovering at.

"Okay, okay, we all know your excited! But before we break out the high grade and music, I'd like to give a shout out to the real reason why this party is here! To the officers!"

Once again a round of cheers erupted from the crowed, out of the corner of his optics, Prowl saw Jazz banging his fists against a table.

_How mature, Jazz._

"Please, raise your cube for, our very own, awesome, generous leader! OPTIMUS PRIME!"

Prowl smirked a bit as he raised his cube in the air, following the others as they cheered for Optimus.

"Our Third in command, Prowl!"

All optics were on him as they lowered their cubes only to rase them again to cheer for Prowl, said mech just stood still, Optics on Jazz who gave a flashy smile, a wink of his visor.

"The CUTEST couple on the ark, WHEELJACK AND RATCHET!"

The cheers were louder this time, cat-calls could be heard as well. Ratchet, who was standing by the door grumbled something as he dully lifted his cube into the air, his grumble was cut off, however, by a happy Wheeljack planting a kiss right on the CMO's lips, causing a few immature 'oooooo's' to rocket from the crowed, mainly Jazz.

"And last but certainly not least, our favorite saboteur, JAZZ!"

Prowl once again wished he was Jazz, simply because the Autobots seemed to scream for the mech, Jazz stood up, Bowed a few times, blowing kisses to the others' their optics met, in which, Jazz gave a long, somewhat cute pucker of his lips.

"Now that that's over with, Shall we drink?"

Sideswipe was answered by what sounded like hundreds of yesses, seeming satisfied, Sideswipe lifted his drink high in the air, everyone copied his action.

"To the officers! Till all are one!"

"Till all are one!" The room mirrored, all taking a sip of their grade, well. Prowl took a sip, others, such as Sideswipe himself seemed to down the cube like it was only an inch high.

"LETS GET THIS PARTY STARTED! Blaster! Hit me with the best slag ya got."

Blaster clapped as Sideswipe jumped fully off the stage, landing on his pedes as he tossed his hands into the air, There was a second of silence, and then...

_ALL ABOARD! HAHAHA!_

A tick drum beat came on...

_Dun dun, dun dun, dun dun, dun dun..._

_AYE AYE AYE!_

Prowl vented as the music basically deafened him. He rolled his optics, swirling his cube absently in his servo as he looked around. Well, this was... Great?

_Crazy! But that's how it goes, millions of people, living as foe-ooheohs._

"PROWL! Over here!" Jazz's voice somehow managed to make its way to Prowls Audios over the music, his door wings twitched smally at being called, he looked to the table where Jazz was sitting, Wheeljack sitting next to him. Smokescreen beside Wheeljack. Prowl looked to the side of him, he could have sworn the inventor was over there with Ratchet just a second ago.

Shrugging mentally, Prowl slowly made his way to Jazz's table, the cube of high grade held by both his servos to avoid spilling, once in reach, Jazz grinned, patting the seat beside him for the TIC to join him.

Prowl was inwardly happy to take the seat, but instead of showing it, he gave the saboteur a disapproving look at his pedes kicked up on the table.

"Where did Ratchet go?" Prowl queried absently, setting his cube down on the table, Wheeljacks fins lit up at the mention of his mate, he gestured to the door.

"Left, he isn't one for partying." Prowl made a sound of agreement, even though, truly, Prowl wasn't one for parting either.

"Prowl ain't either, but 'ere he is!" Jazz voiced Prowls thoughts, dipping his helm towards the door winger. Smokescreen, who Prowl just remembered was there, leaned over the table.

"So he is, _who_ convinced you Prowl?" Prowl scowled pointing a finger lazily at Jazz.

"Who do you think?" He asked a bit sarcastically, Jazz, for his part, simply grinned and rocked his helm back and forth, not afraid to prove Prowl right.

Smokescreen chuckled lowly, leaning back against the table as he drank his Highgrade, Prowl looked down at his own cube, which he had only taken one sip of, it looked tempting, but he had read about the many defects one could get from drinking to much high grade.

Jazz for his part, was watching the door winger with critical optics beneath his visor, studying every move the Paraxian made, each unnoticed twitch of his door wings. His gaze followed to the cube the black and white mech was staring at, Jazz smiled.

"Don' be 'fraid, Prowlie, ya high grade ain't gonna bite ya." Jazz told him, Prowl looked up to the saboteur, his lips set in a firm line, Jazz sighed, That unemotional terse line, He would have to change that soon.

"I do not drink." Prowl replied, which seamed to be the worse thing to say, perhaps, because Jazz's jaw dropped, his visor flashing white in surprise.

"Ya don't drink." Jazz breathed disbelievingly, leaning in towards the Paraxian who didn't flinch, but simply pushed the cube slightly away from his frame.

"I have never finished an entire cube of high grade before. The long-term risks I would have could-"

"Mech..." Jazz interrupted, pushing the TICs abandoned cube back towards the Paraxian, In a disapproving tone, Jazz said lowly, leaning closer to Prowl.

"Tha's gotta change, Prowler." A short gust of air exhaled from the Paraxians vents as the mech slowly reached out to take the cube, only to look down at it and frown.

"Come on Prowl, enjoy it! Its a break!" Wheeljack added in with a blink of his fins, raising his cube to the hesitant mech who had picked the cube up.

"Parties for you too, ya know." Smokescreen said matter of factly, dipping his head to the side as he looked over the other door winger. With a sickeningly long sigh, Prowl lifted the cube to his lips. Only to see Jazz staring at him intently from the corner of his optic.

Shaking his helm, Prowl went to take a longer sip, only to catch Jazz as he began to leaner closer to him, feeling a little awkward, Prowl lowered his cube, giving the saboteur a side glare.

"Why are you staring at me?" Prowl asked tentivly, carefully watching as Jazz's smile began to grow.

"Ah ain't wanna miss any'a this, go on, drink it." Grumbling something about the maturity in some 'bots, Prowl lifted the glass to his lips, letting a bit slide down his throat, it burned a little, but the strong high grade would do that, he pulled the cube away and looked to his friend.

"Happy?" He asked, somehow already knowing that the mech wasn't, Jazz tilted his head the smile on his lips never leaving.

"Nah Prowler, Ah ain't gonna be happy 'till ya finish that cube, do it for meh?" Jazz pleaded, Wheeljack chuckled from his spot, whispering something about him going to see what Hound was doing, but he went unnoticed by the two as they did a stare down, optics narrowed.

Smokescreen left without a word, again, neither 'bots noticed. Both staring heatedly into the others optics, having some sort of internal battle only they could understand.

With a flick of his door wings, Prowl grumbled. "Fine." He said tersely, he then added quickly. "But just one cube, and no more."

Jazz chuckled darkly, giving the Paraxian a very unconvincing nod.

"Sure Prowler, just one cube." Prowl cocked an optic ridge at the tone, but brushed it off, once again the mech lifted the cube to his lips.

"Ya gatta drink it all, Kay? All at once, ya catch me?" Jazz shot in, swinging his legs over to the side of his chair, leaning in with his elbows on his knees, hands rested on the side of his helm.

"Ya gatta drink it all Kay?" Prowl mocked in a whisper, rolling his optics, Jazz heard the whisper, however, and laughed loudly.

Prowl shot the mech one last look before he pressed the cube to his lips and and tilted his head back a bit.

This was going to be a long night.

_When the basses low_

_You work it nice and slow_

_You let your body go_

_Shake it till the break of dawn!_

_You can take a shot_

_Of anything they got_

_They tryin' to table top_

_But_

_Hey! I don't care_

_I don't care_

_Whenever there's a party_

_I'm the first one with a drink in the air_

_put em up, put em up!_

_We can share_

_Yeah!_

_Cause when we finish this one_

_There will be another bottle right here!_

* * *

><p>Like promised. Prowl had finished his cube, and surprisingly, the mech had downed that cube like a professional drinker, however, the mech showed no outwardly evidence that he was even feeling it, which made Jazz a bit irritated, usually a first time drinker would get tipsy off their first drink, but apparently Prowl was a different story, how many cubes would it take for him to get even a little bit giggity?<p>

Prowl and Jazz's chairs were faced towards the stage, watching as Bluestreak tried his best to sing a long to _If I Had You_ by Adam Lambert- or something like that, Jazz had been too occupied in watching Prowl to really catch the details.

Jazz thought it was a little funny, though, maybe Prowl was feeling a bit tingly? Because the mech had his helm tipped at an eighty degree angle, watching Bluestreak dance on the stage with very focused optics.

Jazz wanted those optics on him.

Finally tearing his visor from Prowls form, Jazz looked up just in time to see Sideswipe making his way towards him, Jazz looked around briefly, wondering where the red twins brother was, he didn't see Sunstreaker anywhere though.

Sideswipe discreetly tapped Jazz on the shoulder, kneeling down to the saboteurs' side, the side facing Prowl, Sideswipe took a long look at Prowl before turning to look at the stage.

"Need a bit of help?" He asked in w low whisper, Jazz looked to Prowl, who seemed to not have heard the words. Jazz laid his helm back against the chair, only to roll it lazily to look at Sideswipe. Jazz had a bored look on his face.

"Yeah mech, whatcha got in mind?" Sideswipe licked his lips longly, optics once again moving back to the Paraxian who's wings were held up high, Sideswipe looked down at the floor.

"How 'bout a dance?" Jazz smiled, rolling his helm to look over the TIC, his smile became brighter as he thought it through.

"Go for it." Jazz approved, without another word Sideswipe stood up from his spot and jogged to the stage, waving his hands at Bluestreak, dismissing him, The sniper protested at being interrupted in the middle of his song, but grumpily agreed, sliding off the stage as Sideswipe trotted over to Blaster, leaning over to whisper something to the mech.

Once that was done, the red twin walked to the centre of the stage, tapping the microphone a few times as the lingering music of If I Had You cut off abruptly, causing Jazz to cring.

Sideswipe shot a look at blaster who shrugged, fixing the headphones on his Audios.

"Now mechs, imma slow it down just a bit, so grab ya partners, this ones for the couples." Sideswipe hands the microphone back to Blaster who took it and turned it off, Jazz watched just long enough to see Sideswipe make his way to his yellow twin who had emerged from somewhere off in the distance, they embraced.

Jazz was aware of the others shifting off into couple as Blaster set up the music, Jazz looked over to Prowl, who looked abot confused, he then looked down at his hands, fiddling with them, finding the confidence, Jazz stood. He kneeled in front of Prowl, cutting the mechs view from whoever he was looking at, Optics met visor.

"Prowl, will ya dance with meh?" Jazz asked softly, his hand held out towards the sitting Paraxian, this was it, would he say yes? Maybe it would loosen the door winger up a bit, but... Jazz wanted this- he wanted Prowl, he didn't want anything else in the world. Only him.

A soft guitar solo began to play in the back round, Jazz began to unknowingly hum along to it. Prowl stared at Jazz's hand. Looking lost.

_What day is it? And in what month?_

_This clock never seemed so alive_

_I can't keep up and I can't back down_

_I've been losing, so much time._

Jazz's visor twinkled, the smile on his face was true, beautiful, the dim lights of the room dulled his paint to a grey, but it only made the saboteur look even more exquisite. Prowl was lost in the mechs visor, stuck between staying sitting, or reaching out to take his hand.

So much passion showed in the mechs visor it should have been a crime, and Prowl had a feeling his own optics were betraying what he felt, because his door wings were, they weren't sitting in their normal position, but higher up, swaying slightly to the beat that was slowly capturing him.

_'Cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do, nothing to lose_

_And it's you and me and all of the people_

_And I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you._

Jazz couldn't stop looking at Prowls optics, so much emotion, so much adoration in them was it a choice? Or a dream come true? Prowl still had his hands on his lap, but they twitch minutely, fingers interlocking as if he was trying to stop himself from reaching foreword.

However, Jazz still stood, his hand out, hoping the mech would take it, he felt his spark beat rise, he slowed his vents, tilting his head down at the TIC, moving his hand foreword a little bit to encourage his partner. It seemed to break Prowl from his trace, their optics never breaking, Prowl slowly reached his hand out.

_All of the things that I want to say just aren't coming out right_

_I'm tripping on words_

_You got my head spinning_

_I don't know where to go from here._

Their hands met with spark that seemed to erupt between both Autobots, tingling up their frames, through their lifeblood, making its way to both their sparks, Prowl became visibly nervous as Jazz slowly pulled Prowl from his chair, Prowl allowed the music to carry him, just like Jazz, backing up, Jazz led his crush to the dance floor, unaware of the other bots splitting to give them room, Jazz didn't care, he was lost in His TICS optics, Yes, HIS TICS optics. He was swimming in them, drowning in them. All he wanted to do was hold the mech close, and never let him go.

_'Cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do, nothing to prove_

_And it's you and me and all of the people_

_And I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you._

Prowl was breathless, his legs threatening to break beneath him, his spark was a mess of emotions, things he had never felt before, his hand felt so right in Jazz's, to right, the sparkling of the SIC's visor only enhanced his feelings, why didn't he ever do this before? It felt so.. Right.

Jazz pulled him close, chassis to chassis, Prowls vents hitched.

"Jazz, I've never done this before." Jazz's smile brightened, he leaned in close to the Paraxian, forehelms brushing against each others.

"Ya never danced?" Prowls only response was a brisk shake of his helm, to caught up in the graceful, fluid like motions of the other, Jazz chuckled softly, a sound that Prowl had never heard from the saboteur before a sound that, Prowl decided, he liked.

"Let meh teach ya."

_Something about you now_

_I can't quite figure out_

_Everything she does is beautiful_

_Everything she does is right..._

'_Cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do, nothing to lose,_

_And it's you and me and all of the people_

_And I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you._

Hands between Prowls doorwings, Said mech hesitantly let his servos dangle over Jazz's shoulders, they closed whatever gap was between them, wanting to be closer, their sparks calling out to each other, both 'bots swayed slowly to the beat, moving in a slow circle, visor to optic.

"Jazz..." Prowl breathed, unable to find words, every touch to his back, the lingering spark of his chassis against the others' it brought him to life, he couldn't focus on anything else, no one else, only Jazz. The room disappeared, everyone disappeared, Prowl could only hear the music, he could only see Jazz.

It was true, wasn't it? Jazz did like him. A soft smile broke out on TICS lips.

He couldn't see himself doing this with anyone else. Only Jazz.

Only Jazz.

"Shhh..." Jazz whispered, pushing his forehelm harder against Prowls, who, pushed back, the TICS spark was tugging, wiggling, flipping with nerves.

_Cause its you And me and all of the people with nothing to do and nothing to prove_

_And it's you and me and all of the people_

_And I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you._

As the song slowly started to settle down into its last chorus, Jazz stopped moving, his hands crawling up the paraxians curves, making Prowl shiver, they found their way to his face, where Jazz cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look into that honest visor, it wasn't like he was going to look away, anyway.

Jazz leaned in, and Prowl found himself leaning in, as well. He didn't know what he was doing, but he couldn't stop himself, Their optics shuttered in union. They seemed breathing stopped all together.

_Cause its you And me and all of the people with nothing to do, and nothing to prove_

_And it's you and me and all of the people_

_And I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you_.

It was heaven, it was the rarest of sweets, the gentlest touch, it was perfect, it was everything.

Jazz was perfect.

The white mechs thumb stroked Prowls cheek as his lips brushed against Prowls own, grazing against the others, they were so close, so painfully close, something popped up in the back of Prowls mind, saying that Jazz was teasing him, but the door winger could care less, just being this close...

Jazz pushed closer, their lips finally fully meeting, Prowl sucked in a vent, his hands having a mind of their own as they mirrored Jazz's on hands, pulling that visored face closer to his, tilting his helm, Prowl let instincts he didn't know he had take over, their lips moving in perfect time to the melody, lips parting at the right time, glossia snaking out to lick the others' lips.

_What day is it?_

_And in what month?_

_This clock never seemed so alive..._

The music died down, but the two bots remained together, too wrapped up in each others bodies to notice the fast beat song coming on and the others' beginning to take over the dance floor.

Finally, Jazz pulled away taking a deep breath Prowls optics flickered as their helms rested against one another's.

They swam in each others optics, unable to look away, unwilling to separate, that was, until Sideswipe called to Jazz from across the room.

"Hey Jazz! Up for some drinking games?" Jazz smirked deviously, the loving look that had adorned his visor changed to dark intent, Jazz took a firm grip on Prowls hand, already knowing the tactician was about ready to split.

"Ya ain't goin' nowhere." Jazz crooned, rubbing his helm against Prowls neck cables.

"Jazz-" Prowl warned, but his unlisted threat got no further, fore Jazz kissed him harshly on the lips then, tugged the reluctant bot over to Sideswipe.

A long night indeed.

* * *

><p><strong>TBC...<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: just a warning, this is unedited, well, I went through it a few times, but i don't know if I got all the errors from it. **

**I've also decided to stretch this out, and I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Because I honestly, couldn't stop laughing when I wrote it. As always, Review!**

**Warnings: **

**Prowl drinking High Grade, Numerous swear words, Perverted pick up lines, Interface talk, Sunstreaker ripping of an offense line about mental issues. (Don't read if it offends you.) many awkward silences. An song that may be offensive to those who are uh, black. And well, if I give off more ill ruin the chapter!**

**Rating: M**

**Songs:**

**Asshole- Eminem.**

**Rap god- Eminem.**

**Rucka Rucka Ali- Go cops!**

**Bad boys- inner circle.**

**My milkshake- Kelis.**

**Hey Mickey- B-WITCHED.**

**Right round- Flo Rida/Kesha**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, or any of the characters, yada yada. On with the story! Review!**

**A Night To Remember part three.**

"You are irritating and persistent." Prowl monotoned as Jazz clasped both Prowls wrists with each hand, walking back words towards Sideswipe, Prowl wanted to scoff at the mech that was basically dragging him to the table. Jazz shrugged

"Thas' wha' Ere'y bot says 'bout me." The saboteur grinned sassily at Prowl, letting lose of his left wrist, but keeping a tight hold of the left one with a skip to his step, Jazz spun around just in time to stop dead before he ran into the table.

Sideswipe was standing before that same table, four cups of high grade lined up on each side, standing beside the red twin, was his one and only brother, looking smug, but incredibly bored, stationed on the other side of the table was Ironhide, Smokescreen, Inferno and Cliffjumper, all looking ready to win.

"What we playin'?" Jazz quarried, tugging Prowl to join Sideswipes side, Prowl grumbled, massaging his temple, their hands still interlocked.

"We're playing flip cube, ya know the rules?"

"O' course." Jazz said quickly, he knew every drinking game out there, even human ones.

"Wasn't talking about you, talking to Prowl." Said Paraxians door wings flared up, as if hurt, before they sagged a bit.

"I'm afraid I do not." Prowl told the red twin, hiding the slight shame within his spark, it seemed everyone knew it, but of course, Prowl didn't drink, so how would he know?

"Well," Sideswipe drawled, sounding a bit annoyed that he would have to explain.

"We've already separated the teams into two, now, the goal of this game is to have your team finish their high grade before the other." Sideswipe paused, giving Prowl a pointed look, The enforcer ticked his glossia somewhat silently against the roof of his mouth.

"So this is a game of speed?" Prowl asked, sounding unimpressed Sideswipe nodded with a grin.

"Good thing ya catch on fast. Now, Bluestreak here." Sideswipe gestured gracefully to a practically jumping Bluestreak, who lifted up a large whistle, twirling it between his fingers like a professional referee.

"Is going to be the starter, and ender when he blows the whistle, both teams will race to chug their Highgrade, once they finished, they must turn their cups upside down, the first team to have all four cups turned upside down wins, Baby Blue will then announce the winner, if a team wins twice in a row, they win the game by default, but otherwise, theres three rounds, you catch me?"

Prowl grumbled an affirmative, looking down at the still pink liquid in his cube with disdain, why had he allowed Jazz to pull him into this? Slowly, his fingers removed from Jazz's own as the mechs huddled around their respective cubes.

If Prowl had been anyone else, he might have been intimidated by the way Ironhides team seemed so focused on winning, they were all either stock still or leaning over, their optics narrowed on the cube, they said not a word, either.

"Alright, on your que Blue."

Bluestreak lifted the whistle, giving his mate a nod.

"On your mark." The sniper drawled, All bots excludingProwl leaned down, looking ready to sprint for a race.

"Get set." Their hands shot out, inches away from their cubes, Prowl looked around the others, quickly masking his hesitance by copying, reaching out with a large amount of uncertainty.

Was he seriously going to do this?

The sound of a whistle answered for him.

"Go!" The cubes were lifted from the table with lightening speed, Prowl snatched his cube up, taking large gulp after gulp of the pink liquid, he resisted the urge gag as the Highgrade slid down his throat, his optics burned a little bit from the force of which he drank it down.

_Clink. Clink._

Two cups hit the table while Prowl struggled to down the rest of his.

_Clink. Clink._

He couldn't tell which bot had set the cubes down, almost finished with his own, Prowl tilted his helm up, allowing the rest of the high grade to flow down his throat, feeling slightly victorus, Prowl slammed his cube upside down on the table.

Looking up, Prowl noticed that the last two were battling. Sideswipe and Smokescreen were throat to throat, quickly the high grade disappeared from each cup.

It seemed Sideswipe was a second too slow.

Smokescreen banged his his cube down onto the table with a testy flick of his door wings, just a millisecond before Sideswipe turned his.

Bluestreak blue the whistle. Prowl cringed, being so close to the sniper.

"Smokescreens team wins!"

"Ha!" Ironhide snorted, crossing his arms over his chassis, Jazz glared at the mech, already reaching for the pitcher to refil the cubes. "Round two! Sides, ya gatta be faster, Prowls never played his before an' he beat ya!"

Sideswipe growled at Jazz who, tossed his helm smugly, Prowl watched with mild amusement as Jazz filled the cubes on his side while Inferno filled the other.

"Ready ta get ya afts beat again?" Inferno taunted, filling up the rest of Smokescreens cube. Jazz snorted, which was quickly followed by Sunstreakers own grunt.

Prowl knew he wasn't getting out of it now, with a suffering sigh, he looked down at his cube.

"On your mark!" Bluestreak called again- this time, Prowl knew what to do, he lean down, following the others, he allowed his battle computer to take control over the situation.

"Get set!" Fingers clenching, digits almost brushing against the cube, Prowls optics narrowed, the smug look Jazz shot him from the side went unnoticed as Prowl threw all he had into downing that cube. He was the superior officer.

"Go!" Prowl didn't even hesitate, his servo leaned foreword to grab that cube up, throwing his head completely back, he opened up his throat, dumping the liquid down it like pouring energon into a dispenser. Prowl could hardly taste the grade as it flooded down his throat from how quickly he gobbled it up.

But all to soon the cube was empty, he tossed the cube on the table, forgetting momentarily for it to be set upside down, jerking his servos out, Prowl quickly fixed that major mistake.

Prowl rocked his door wings smartly as he observed the others.

Jazz came next, the cube being placed gently, yet challengingly against the table, then came Ironhide, who tossed the cube down without a care. Cliffjumper was next, smartly banging his cube twice against the table before flicking it over. Sunstreaker must have finished before Prowl, because his cube was already turned over, he was seated in his chair.

Once again, it was between the S's, Smokescreens door wings were wild and uncontrolled, batting behind him like a fan, Sideswipe had his helm tilted back at a very uncomfortable angle, the cubes contents vanishing...

**BAM!**

Sideswipe slammed the cube down with so much force, Prowl could have sworn he heard it crack, hearing the loud bang, Smokescreen grumbled, draning the last few drops of his high grade.

"Frag you!" Sideswipe cheered, thrusting two hands out to point at Smokescreen while walking back and forth, he even went as far as leaning his entire body mass against the table and flicking Smokescreens now empty cube, it was a weak flick, though, the cube only rocked to the side.

"Who's slow now? Not me!"

Anyone could tell that the red mech had already downed a few cubes before the game started. He was teetering back an forth, for Primus sake!

Prowl slowly registered his own processor getting a bit tingly, he must be getting tipsy, or something like that, because he felt like the ground was moving beneath him, he casted his helm down to look at the floor, raising an optic ridge at the odd display, was the floor moving, or was he moving?

"Sideswipes team wins!" Bluesreak announced loudly. Jazz tossed his hands in the air an waved them around like he just didn't care, while Sideswipe yanked his balled hand back in victory hissing a 'frag yeah'

"Get ah afts beat, huh?" Jazz mocked at Inferno, who leaned over the table and growled rather dangerously at Jazz, Jazz laughed freely, handing the pitcher off to Sunstreaker who, besides Prowl, was probably the most collected of the group.

"Ya slow aft!" Cliffjumper chided at Smokescreen, said mechs door wings sagged down, but he glared at the red bot.

"I can't help it sometimes..." Smokescreen whispered sadly, his face casted down to his empty cube, looking at it as if it were a dead puppy.

"Sometimes... Sometimes, I'm slow..."

"Sometimes?" Cliffjumper snorted, throwing his arms up, only to bring them back down because he lost his balance.

"Easy now." Ironhide soothed, putting a hand on the minibots shoulder, however, Cliffjumper jerked free of his grip. Watching Inferno fill up the cubes once again.

The world seemed to move around Prowl, he felt tingly, well, his processor did, and it was a nice feeling.

"Nother round?" Prowl asked, maybe a bit too eagerly, Jazz gave Sideswipe a pointed look, saying 'hes feelin' in' Sideswipe smiled back, knowing exactly what he was talking about. Prowl didn't see it, though.

"Lest do this! We're gonna smoke'ya!" Ironhide taunted, bending down.

"Oh your mark, get set, Go!"

Hands flew once again, cubes were drained as fast as cybertronainly possible, this time Prowl was the last to finish in his group, but once again, Smokescreen was too slow, Prowl could hear the others cheering him on as he leaned foreword, chugging the contents. With a practical smart move, Prowl tossed his cube on the table.

"And Sideswipe team wins!" Jazz cheered loudly, hands shooting up in the air as he twirled around in a circle. Sunstreaker looked indifferent, perhaps a bit zoned out.

Sideswipe leaned on the table, jabbing his fingers out at each bot, saying 'frag you, frag you, oh! And frag you too!' To each one of the sulking loosing team.

Prowl himself had to hold back the urge to throw his hands up and dance in victory, but he wasn't drunk like the others probably were, instead, he settled with standing tall, door wings held smugly against his back as he smirked evilly at the others.

"I don't wanna be on Smokes team no more." Inferno said with a growl, turning away from Smokescreen who was growling like a rabid dog defending his catch, his mood seemed to abruptly change, because he frowned sadly, looking on the verge of tears.

"Why does everyone hate me?" He whined, no one answered him however, because Jazz was banging his fists immaturely against the table

"Was' next?" The saboteur suddenly asked, well, screamed more like it, letting lose some pent up energy, Prowl decided. The TIC held back a groan,_another_ one? This was going to be a long night. How many times had he said that already? _Twice_? Lets tally that, Prowl was sure he'd be thinking it at least three more times before the night was over.

Already clearing the cubes from the table, Sideswipe spoke. "Quarts." He said pippedly, setting a full, large pitcher at the end of the table, the other bots seemed to already know the rules, they all moved to the opposite side if the table, while Sideswipe dug around in his subspace, pulling out a bag full of cybertronian credits.

"Now, since I know you don't know what this is, Prowl." Prowls head snapped up at his name being called, he had to be honest, everything seemed a bit fuzzy, he struggled to remain still on his pedes, although the others, mainly Jazz. Didn't hide the fact that they were tipsy, the white mechs hands were gripped on the table as he swayed back and forth like a flag in the wind.

Well, maybe he was doing it on purpose, because Prowl knew, even when drunk, _no_bot swayed _that_ much.

Sideswipe set up new, full cubes of high grade up on a separate table that Bluestreak had pulled up, there had to have been more then twenty cubes lined up, Prowl vaguely registered the sound of heavy rap music entering his Audios, it seemed to get louder as he focused on it more, it was hard to focus on more then one thing at a time.

_I'm beginning to feel like a Rap God, Rap God_

_All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod_

_Now who thinks their arms are long enough to slap box, slap box?_

_They said I rap like a robot, so call me rap-bot, rap-bot._

"Okay, this game is called quarts." Ironhide deemed it okay for himself to finish off the sentence, he cut Sideswipe off, barging in.

"What ya gatta do is bounce a credit into the pitcher, if ya make it in, ya git to pick one 'bot to drunk one of those cubes over there, if ya miss, its the next person in lines turn, if ya make it in three row in a times, er- times in a row, you get to make a rule, if someone breaks the rule, they git punished, by drinkin some Highgrade, gatta have a steady hand, simple enough, right?"

Prowl nodded, unknowing that he had moved a bit closer to Jazz, the saboteur noticed, but seemed to not care, Jazz simply leaned in towards him.

"Now!" Sideswipe pipped in, rubbing his servos together.

"Who's first?"

"Ah nominate tha' drinkin' rookie." Jazz said, grinning highly as he pushed his crush towards the end of the table. Prowl mumbled, looking over at the cube, his tanks already mumbling in protest to more.

"Alright, lets get this game started! I want more Highgrade!" Cliffjumper spat out, leaning foreword. Sideswipe backed up from the table.

"Hands away." He said, the rest of the mechs backed away from the table as well, giving Prowl full view.

Sideswipe handed Prowl a credit, in which, felt oddly weird in the tacticians servos, he shrugged it off though, using his planning computer to find the best way to bounce the coin.

He leered over the table, and with a careful flick of the wrist, the coin left his servo, it bounced off the table, landing with a splash in the pitcher.

_But for me to rap like a computer must be in my genes_

_I got a laptop in my back pocket_

_My pen'll go off when I half-cock it_

_Got a fat knot from that rap profit_

_Made a living and a killing off it_

_Ever since Bill Clinton was still in office_

_With Monica Lewinski feeling on his nutsack_

_I'm an MC still as honest_

_But as rude and as indecent as all hell_

_Syllables, skill-a-holic (Kill 'em all with)_

_This flippity, dippity-hippity hip-hop_

_You don't really wanna get into a pissing match_

_With this rappity-rap_

"Damn, mech, ya got a steady hand." Jazz said, swinging his hips in time to the words, Jazz pated between the TIC's wings, Causing Prowl to unknowingly wiggle them at the praise, standing strait up. He evaluated the crowd before him, taking in who looked the worse and who looked more composed. He picked his victim.

"Sunstreaker." The yellow twin mumbled something under his breath, snatching a cube from the table without a care and sipping at it.

Prowl seemed at loss of what to do, he looked over to Jazz, hoping to get clarification.

"Go 'gain." The white mech urged on, setting another credit in Prowls hand.

Once again, the coin bounced perfectly into the pitcher, this time, The TIC chose the quiet Smokescreen to take another drink.

However, the third try went downhill, instead of landing perfectly within the pitcher, it bounced off the top.

"Mah turn!" Jazz hummed, snatching a cube up shoving it into Prowls hand, the TIC stared down at it with lost optics, then deciding not to look inferior he gulped down the cube because of his loss, his tanks rumbled quietly, but he ignored it.

Of course, it seemed Jazz was picking on the Paraxian, because the first time the credit landed in the pitcher, he told Prowl to take a drink, unable to back down from a challenge, Prowl took another cube, still holding the half empty one in his other hand.

However, it seemed throughout the game, all the players wanted to pick on him, each one called him out at least once, and Prowl found himself, almost happy to comply.

Fifteen minuets in, The TIC was swaying slightly, door wings puttering behind him as he watched Smokescreen nail all three coins, The gambler huffed sassily, straitening as much as his body would allow.

"Rule number one, the coin can't touch the glass, it hassta land right smack in the middle." The other Paraxian drawled, handing a three coins off to Cliffjumper, who seemed to over-confident.

However, his first coin made it in effortlessly, to where he demanded rather rudely that Sideswipe was to take a drink.

The his second cube touched the side of the pitcher, he swung his head around, hoping no one noticed.

"Ah saw tha'" Jazz grinned, shoving the mech away, Cliffjumper snarled, pushing Jazz back, the saboteur quickly backed away, hands flying up, avoiding any battles.

Prowl sighed, making a mental tally, because here it comes!

a long, long night indeed.

* * *

><p>"This no good idea." Jazz was laughing, Prowl was drunk, and it was halirous, seeing the normally uptight bot stumble over his words, his poor processor must have been in a huge jumble.<p>

But still, Jazz playfully ignored the mechs statement, slipping the blindfold over his optics anyway, Prowl squealed as he was suddenly pulled into darkness.

Sideswipe grinned at Jazz from his spot next to the Paraxian, Jazz grinned back, trying to ignore the fact that Prowl was very unsteady on his feet.

"Ready Prowler?" Jazz crooned, which was answered by panicked shakes of the door wingers helm.

It seamed Blaster, the parties DJ, knew what was about to go down, he peeked out from behind the curtain surrounding his booth, optics zeroing in on the little group of drunks, The mech smiled, turning the volume of the current song playing down enough so he could turn it off without it sounding scratchy, then, with the devils look, he switched the song.

_You spin my head right round, right round_

_When you go down, when you go down down_

_You spin my head right round, right round_

_When you go down, when you go down down._

Upon hearing the song Both Sideswipe and Jazz took that as their Que. to begin spinning Prowl fast to the left, they counted to sixty, before the blindfold was pulled right off Prowls optics, a cube of high grade shoved In hands, processor spinning, Prowl was pushed forewords.

_Walk out the house with my swagger_

_Hop in the whip yo I got places to go_

_People to see, time is precious_

_I look at my Cartier, out of control_

_Just like my mind where I'm going_

_No women, no shorties, no nothing my clothes_

_No stomping on my Perreli's on froze_

_Unlike my jewelry that's always on cold_

_I know the storm is coming_

_My pockets keep telling me its gonna shower_

_Call up my homies it's on and poppin' tonight cause it's meant to be ours—_

Sunstreaker, who had had the same treatment done to him beside Prowl, rushed foreword only to lose his footing and dive right into the ground with a loud holler, Ironhide, who was stationed a distance ahead on Sunstreaker, screamed at yellow twin to get up, while Hound nicely beckoned Prowl over to him.

Prowl stumbled foreword, then swayed back, pushed foreword again, only to trip an fall down on his aft, glass raised in the air, no contents were spilled.

Sunstreaker was having a harder time keeping his Highgrade in, it was sloshing out of the top of the cube, splashing onto the growling twins yellow paint.

_You spin my head right round, right round_

_When you go down, when you go down down_

_You spin my head right round, right round_

_When you go down, when you go down down_

"Come on! Hurry up!" Ironhide yelled, throwing his hands up in expatriation, Prowl, who was still sitting on his aft, cube still lifted in the air, blinked at the world around him stupidly, door wings twitching behind him, he didn't move. Looking more content on sitting there and never getting up.

Sunstreaker was unsteadily getting to his feet, using one hand while the cubed hand was thrown in the air, a look of pure determination written on his face like a book.

"Prowl, you hassta get up an come ta me." Hound said softly, but with a touch of irritation, Prowl didn't notice the change in voice, only the command, he leaned foreword, hand still raised, and used his knees to stand up.

The world spun around the Paraxian as he took small steps foreword, all he could see was Hound and his cube, the path before him that he had to suffer through.

Although the path was strait, to Prowl, it was an obstical course, winding and spinning, constantly moving to make everything even more difficult.

Sunstreaker seemed to gain his footing, and perhaps just a little to much confidence as he rushed foreword at full sprint.

It seemed the table they had used for games interested Sunstreaker more then Ironhide did, because the yellow twin seemed to make a B-line for it, rushing head on into it, Sunstreakers yelp was lost within the laughter of the rec. room as he tumbled head over heals overtop the table, landing on his aft on the other side.

It was incredible, because his cube of high grade was still full, nothing spilled.

Seeing this as Prowls winning stretch, the tactician took a breath, continuing at his steady pace foreword. Hounds smiling, boasting face soon came closer, so close that, Prowl ran right into him. He backed up a bit, shaking his helm as he mumbled hound an apology.

"ya won Prrrr-Prowlerr!" Jazz purred from behind the door winger, rushing up and tackling the unsteady TIC to the floor.

Prowl was either caught up in the metal floors patterns, or too confused to realized what just happened, but when he did, Prowl spoke in with a very unconvincing.

"Woo." Lifting one hand up as if to cheer, only for it to fall back down to the ground.

Jazz turned the mech over, seeming to be way overexcited that Prowl had won, he was slapping his servos against Prowls chassis, repeating. "Ya won! Ya won!" Over and over again, the most ridiculous smile on his face.

"What'd I win?" Prowl slurred, helm lifted from the ground, rocking back and forth as the TIC struggled to win.

"Tha' Highgrade ya have in yo hand!" Scrunching his face up in confusion, Prowl turned his head to his servo, which, incredibly still held the cube of Highgrade.

"Yay me." Prowl said dully, letting his helm fall back lifting the cube to his lips, most likely forgetting he had been laying down, Prowl pulled off the most obscene face when the energon coated the mechs face like topping on a cake

Jazz laughed loudly, already wiping the Highgrade from Prowls face with a digit, said mech just let his hand drop, the cube falling beside his head.

Was it just him, or was the celling changing colors?

_Life's handing you lemons_

_Make lemonade then_

_But if I can't batter the women_

_How the fuck am I supposed to bake them a cake then?_

_Don't mistake him for Satan_

_It's a fatal mistake if you think I need to be overseas_

_And take a vacation to trip a broad_

_And make her fall on her face and_

_Don't be a retard, be a king?_

_Think not_

_Why be a king when you can be a God?_

* * *

><p>Prowl continuously zoned in and out between the land of happiness an the now, he was siting down beside Jazz in one of the pulled up chairs, the table that had been used for the games became a chat table, the group of nine sat around, conversing with each other.<p>

But now, Prowl wasn't ashamed to continue to sip at cubes of seemingly never ending high grade, chattering with the others, unknowingly swaying, there were sometimes where the mech had to ask another to repeat a sentence, giving, his Audios were becoming a bit foggy as time passed.

The conversations were in full swing, they shouted across the table at one another, but Prowl remained somewhat silent, only contributing when he was addressed.

"Hey guys?" Came Smokescreens low, focused voice, Prowl looked up at the bot, watching as he leaned himself almost completely out of his chair, starring at the side of the table, rubbing something on it with his thumb.

"Did you know... Theresa, Theresa scratch on the table?"

"Your seeing things." Sunstreaker mumbled from his spot beside his red twin, face snug in his arms, if the mech hadn't spoken, Prowl would have thought he was asleep.

"No I'm not, looka... Look at the scratch, look... How did it get there?" Smokescreen questioned, leaning closer to the scratch, staring at it, his mouth slightly parted.

"Prolly when Sunny rolled over tha' table." Jazz chimed in teasingly his voice a chuckle, Sunstreaker spoke his famous line of 'don't call me that!' However, the tone lacked reprimanding.

"Poor, sad, sad Scratch." Smokescreen drawled sadly, putting his face against the table. Offlining his optics. Prowl was sure he wasn't the only one staring at the door winger as if he had four heads.

"Hey, hey Blue!" Sideswipe said loudly, taking the attention from Smokescreen either on purpose or not, Prowl couldn't tell.

Sideswipe was leaning towards the door winger who turned to adress the stuttering mech, his face a bit distorted.

"I've gotta funny pick up line, wanna hear?" Bluestreak hummed, giggling a bit, the others' conversations seemed to stop completely as they listened to what the twin had to say.

"Bluestreak, Do you live in a cornfield? Because I'm stalking you."

Jazz was the first to laugh, which was quickly joined in by the others, Prowl just shook his head, which suddenly became a very intriguing thing to do, he shook his head again, watching as the world rushed by him, making him dizzy.

A weird feeling rumbled up in his spark that shot up to his mouth, causing the TIC to giggle.

However the giggle went unnoticed by a snort from Sunstreaker, who lifted his helm from the table, optics somewhat dark.

"I could come up with a better one then that." He said in a matter of fact tone, Sideswipe puffed up his chassis, daring him to try.

"Oh yeah?" He challenged. "Humor me." With that. Sideswipe slammed his hands against the table and threw his body back against the chair.

"Is your dad a baker? Cause you've got a nice set of buns." Sunstreaker said this lazily, rolling his head to the side to look at his brother, however, the lack of emotion didn't deter a certain 'bot who's name was Ironhide, because he seemed to find this joke the funniest thing in the world, so much that, he slammed his servo against the table a few times.

"It's funny!" Ironhide chortled, leaning over. "Cause we don't bake! But I think... I think I got one!"

Prowl rolled his optics, but found himself leaning in towards Ironhide, ready to listen to what the mech had to say.

"Do you work at dick's? Cause you've got the goods!"

These were cheesy, Prowl realized, but he snorted, Beside him Jazz chuckled loudly, sipping more of high grade, oh! High grade! Prowl forgot he still had a cube!

Lifting his half full cube to his lips, Prowl listened as the group seemed to challenge each other with cheesy pickup lines that they probably looked up on the Internet.

Prowl paused, swinging his optics from side to side to look at the others, his optics dimmed as he brought up the humans Search engine, Google. A quick search of 'cheesy pick up lines' brought up a page that he knew the others were looking at.

"Lets make like fabric softener and snuggle!" Cliffjumper shouted in, daring someone else to come up with another one, Bluestreak threw his hands up. Then pointed strait at Sideswipe. "If you were a booger, I'd pick you first!"

Sideswipe seemed thrilled with that idea while the others laughed around them, Prowls optics stayed on the red twin as he leaned over petting the snipers helm lovingly. In a low voice the TIC was sure he had never heard before, Sideswipe whispered.

"Lets _insert_ things into _other_ things." Prowl lifted his head up, nodding slowly like he expected something like that from the mech, Bluestreaks cooling fans kicked on loudly as the sniper pulled off a giggle only Bluestreak could preform so perfectly.

"Oh?" The sniper drawled, unaware that they had the attention of the entire table. Bluestreaks servo shot out to caress the corvettes headlights, circling them slowly.

"I wouldn't mind that. You _inserting_, or am I?" Prowls optics unwillingly fuzzed at the honeyed, low voice the Tactician NEVER wanted to hear from the youngling, the black and white mech was feeling pretty awkward, watching the pair whisper things Prowl could no longer hear, Jazz, who was beside him, even leaned in towards the front liner, as if wanting in on the secrets.

Prowl was about to say something to take the attention from them, mouth opening just a little, but Sideswipe leaning in, licking up Bluestreaks audio distracted the TIC, Prowl watched as Sideswipe whispered something that caused the sniper to shiver, although Prowl didn't hear what the gunner had said, it seemed Sunstreaker did, because the yellow twin lifted his helm from his arms, turning to his brother with one of the most obscene, disgusted looks Prowl had ever seen on anyones face.

"Did _not_ want to hear that!" Sunstreaker drawled raucously loud, he leaned up, grabbing the rim of the table and forcefully moving himself closer to Jazz, that disturbed look still aimed at his twin who grinned like the Cheshire Cat from that one movie Jazz made him watch, he forgot the name though.

Prowl watched with a raised optic ridge as Jazz leaned close to Substreaker whispering a not so discreet.

"Wha'd 'e say?" Sunstreaker turned and gave the saboteur a pointed look, Prowl knew he wasn't the only one to lean over to hear what he had to say.

"'Ill tell you later." Was all Sunstreaker said.

Jazz's face fell, a frown forming, he looked about ready to protest, but it was abruptly cut off by the sound of crashing metals.

All optics snapped to the sorce of the sound, only to find the chair Smokescreen had been sitting in, on its side, and said bot no where in sight.

Prowl found himself standing up as well as the others, peering over the table just in time to see Smokescreen with his face flat on the ground, wings plastered to his back, aft sticking up in the air. Prowl couldn't help it, really, his throat bubbled up a raw bark of a laugh, then, it all spilled out like dumped energon, he sat back down, just in time for the loudest, most ridiculous laughs to flood from his vocalizer. The others joined him, watching as the downed door winger tried to get up, it was painful to watch, but it only made Prowl, as well as the others, to laugh harder at his failed attempts.

Apparently the mech gave up, because he settled with sitting with his legs crossed on the ground, only his helm visible above the table top. His optics were both embarrassed and angry, he stared at the others around him with such deadly intent that it actually made Prowl shiver.

While the others laughed, it seemed Smokescreen wanted them to forget, he opened his mouth, a grin breaking out like a rash on his face.

"Did you have lucky charms for breakfast? Cause your lookin' magically delicious!"

Prowl couldn't breathe, he didn't know why exactly he found it so funny, perhaps it was just the way the race car had said it, so... Desperately, Prowl didn't know, but everything to him right then was just to funny, everything looked funny too. The wall looked funny, the stage looked funny, whatever that thing over there looked _ridiculously_funny. Gears was sleeping, and that, all on its own, was somehow funny.

Was he getting to off track because of_all_ the funny things he could point out?

"Ah got one! Ah got one!" Jazz called out turning to Prowl. Who looked over at the sound of his crushes voice, Prowl tilted his helm. "Do ya work at subway? Cause you jus' gave me a foot long!"

Prowl didn't get it, but the others seemed to, their laughs from when Smokescreen fell continued, some what louder. Prowl was left to mull over the words, No, he didn't work at Subway, what was Subway? and why would he give him a foot long...

_Oh..._

Prowls optics trailed down to Jazz's gleaming Cod piece, it all clicked into place.

_Oh!_

Prowls cooling fans kicked on, Jazz smirked at this, but they otherwise went unnoticed, Cliffjumper shouting out from directly across from the saboteur.

"Jazz, if ya only got a foot long I might just send you to Ratchet!"

"Heat o' tha' moment." Jazz chimed in rudely, his lips that had been smiling seconds ago set in a firm line in a look of irritation. Jazz then found it okay to stand up and glare at the mech, Prowls helm tilted back as he attempted to get both 'bots in his range of view.

_Everybody knows that you're just an asshole_

_Everywhere that you go, people wanna go_

_"Oh, everyone knows"_

_Everybody knows, so don't pretend to be nice_

_There's no place you can hide_

_You are just an asshole_

_Everyone knows, everyone knows—_

"'Sides, ah got a bigger spike then you!" That statement stunned Prowl enough for the music to completely leave his mind. Prowls optics went impossibly wide as Cliffjumpers entire frame seemed to go rigid with anger, his fists balled at his side, the chair somehow seamed to push out magically as he stood, if Prowl were sober, he would have noticed it had been the red mechs legs that pushed it back, but he wasn't.

So he settled on magic.

Cliffjumper was shaking with unneeded rage, Ironhide, just now sensing the tense air and the peeved off Cliffjumper, went to stand to intercept, but before he could, Cliffjumper shouted.

"Wanna bet? Ya? Wanna? My spike is two times better 'en yours!" Cliffjumper backed away from the table, making his way around it, he passed by Prowl who, unknowingly ducked his head.

_My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard,_

_And they're like_

_It's better than yours,_

_Damn right it's better than yours,_

_I can teach you, _

_But I have to charge—_

Prowl glared over at the music booth, was Blaster doing that on purpose? Changing the songs like that? He caught just a glimpse of Blasters smirking form before he disappeared behind his booth.

_Smart aft._

Cliffjumper stopped at the still form of Jazz, the normally high strung bot was apparently taking this way to seriously, because his lips were in a tight line, arms crossed over his chassis.

In a voice, so dark and void of its usual accent, Jazz leaned towards Cliffjumper.

"Come at me, Bro." Jazz crooned dangerously, sizing Cliffjumper up, he then added with a snarky sideways dip of his helm, his tone completely dead.

"If you got the ball bearings."

"Whoa! Hold up now!" Ironhides attempt to stop the fight died in his fail move to quickly move to Cliffjumpers position, because he tripped over something, his own feet it seemed like, and fell chest first into the ground.

Looked like he didn't want to get up. At all.

Prowls optics roamed from the groaning form of Ironhide to Cliffjumper who seemed to boil and steam with rage, his fist flew out to punch the saboteur, only for Jazz to bring his hand up impossibly fast and catch the appendage before it even had a chance to touch him.

Prowl was leaning back, hands gripping the table, he should have stopped them, it was the logical thing to do, he was one for the law, it was basically his job. Fights were not permitted on the base, whoever broke that law saw to Prowl personally, but it seemed his logic computer was off, probably because of the high grade. Because Prowl just stood there, and stared.

"Sit down, small spike." Jazz growled, tossing Cliffjumpers arm off to the side, the minibot seemed to fly off into that direction, he landed just inches from Sunstreaker, who's head snapped up, entire body jerking alive, optics still offline, the pit fighter threw his chair back, a fist flying out to address the threat that had woken him, it all happened to quick for Prowl processor to even handle.

"Aw, slag..." Sideswipe voiced the rest of the tables thoughts, seconds before Sunstreakers fist slammed into the unprepared mini bots face, there was a loud crack, as well as the chatter of a breaking optic lens shattering beneath the punch, Cliffjumper couldn't stand his ground, his body was thrown back into Jazz's. a loud yelp escaping his throat.

The anger Jazz seemed to have before at Cliffjumper quickly melted from him, because Jazz caught the falling Cliffjumper, an accusing visor shot up to look at Suntreaker while the red minibot clutched at his broken optic. Sunstreaker, for his part, seamed to be a bit confused, mouth slightly agape, optics zooming in and out. Blaster decided that it alright to change the song once again.

_Bad boys, bad boys whatcha gonna do?_

_Whatcha gonna do when they come for you?_

_Bad boys, bad boys whatcha gonna do?_

_Whatcha gonna do when they come for you?_

All three 'bots slowly turned to peer down at Prowl as if expecting something, Prowls wings flared up. Why were they looking at him like that? All three looked like a sparkling who's hand was caught in the cookie jar.

Feeling uncomfortable, Prowl looked down at his pedes, swirling them on the ground, his door wings twitched down like a dogs ears at being scolded. He noticed they were still looking at him by the way the silent air tickled his armor, he looked up, a bit surprised to their jaws nearly touching the floor.

"What?" Prowl exclaimed accusingly, optics switching between the three forms, did they want him fight with them or something?

That one word seemed to eleminate all the anger within the three forms, because Sunstreaker snorted, dropping his aft back down in his seat, Jazz grinned madly, looking like he just got away with murder, and slowly turned the minibot off in the direction of the door. Jazz then slopped a quick kiss on Prowls cheek, the TICS cooling fans kicked on his face plates heating up as the mech was struck with a sudden wave of shyness, ducking his helm down.

Prowl looked up just in time to see Cliffjumpers odd look directed at him, well, as odd as it could get with one servo covering half his bleeding face.

"Get over it." Prowl said heatedly, yet somewhat jokingly at the awkwardly standing mech.

Cliffjumper for his part left quicker then was physically healthy. Probably towards the medbay.

"My love for you is like diarrhea, I just can't hold it in!" The stunned silence was literaly ripped in half by Bluestreaks completely random outburst, Sideswipe gave off a nervous laugh, and Prowl found himself laughing, a laugh that broke the tense air, the others joined him.

_Aaand back to where we started_. Prowl mused to himself as Inferno, who had been quiet wanted in on the fun, he laughed in. "Do you live on a chicken farm? Because you sure now how ta raise cocks!"

"It's pretty cold out here! Can I come inside of you?" Smokescreen said that one, Prowl believed.

They must have been loud, because from somewhere off in the distance, he heard Wheeljack shout.

"Did you fart? Because you just blew me away!"

"OH MAH PRIMUS!" Jazz hollered, throwing his hands over his face, "Ya so ironic! Cause ya blow ya'self up o'lot! Ah Primus! Come're Jack!"

Wheeljack was about to get up when Jazz decided he needed to let loose some energy, he jogged over to the sitting inventor, leaned down in a way a mech would to a sparkling, threw his servo up giving the mech a ten point high five.

"Good one 'Jacky!" Sideswipe called back, while Jazz made his way back to his seat, Wheeljack waved merrily at the two 'bots, Sunstreaker who must have gotten over his earlier slip up, decided he hadn't said enough, he spoke up over the loud laughs.

"We're you're caretakers retarted? Cause you look pretty special."

Jazz found this the funniest thing in the world while Bluestreak, seemed less as pleased, the sniper spun around from looking at Sideswipe and clocked the snickering yellow twin right in the back of the head.

"That's horrible!" Bluestreak exclaimed, glaring hard at the yellow mech. Sunstreaker snorted. Giving Bluestreak a mater of fact look.

"But it was funny." Sunstreaker stated, toasting his cube to the gunner.

Prowl didn't even know he grinning like an idiot as he finished his cube, only to find another one shoved in his direction cirtisy of Jazz, gladly, Prowl picked the cube up, mumbling a cheery, sweet 'thank you' to Jazz who replied with a nonchalant 'no prob.' Back.

Prowls processor was completely numb, as well as his body, he couldn't control what he did any longer, he noticed how his door wings were held high above his helm, he felt great, honestly! This was probably the best decision he had made In a long time, he no longer felt crowded with work, even, right about now, it was surprisingly, the last thing on his mind.

"Ya must be a light switch." Jazz drawled to the group, a smile flicking on his lips. "Cause every time ah see ya, ya turn me on!"

Prowl giggled- he actually giggled! A sound that seemed to be louder then the laugher, because the whole table went quiet, this was hardly regestered in Prowls mind, because the tatican continued to sway, smile, and giggle, he wasn't even giggling at the bad pick up line, he was giggling at himself for giggling.

"Well I'll be damed." Sideswipe said with disbelief, his glazed over optics turning to a triumphant looking Jazz.

"You actually did it." Sideswipe added approvingly, dipping his helm in Jazz's direction. Said mech just just nodded slyly in response.

It was then when the organic loving Hound decided he wanted to join in on their little party with another pick up line. He sauntered his way up to the table with sloppily legs that threatening to bend beneath him, his optics were set in a way of pure determination, yet, amusement trickled within them.

"Roses are red." He began singing in a low, perfectly tuned voice whoever hadn't noticed the 'bot approaching did then, well, all accept for Sideswipe and Bluestreak, who were once again leaned close together, whispering fast, no doubtibly perverted words to one another.

"Violets are bluo, who ooh." Hound took a long sip of his cube, back pressed against a still Ironhide. Hound smirked dangerously. "I think ya hot." He leaned over Ironhide, rubbing the weapon specialists chassis with skillful digits, purposely dipping his fingers into the mechs transformation seams, Prowl cringed, nose wrinkling up in disgust in such an open display.

Ironhides began to shake just a little as he leaned back against Hounds body. Hound leaned down, mouth inches from Ironhides audio.

"Can I. Frag you-hooo-oooh!"

Ironhide seamed to like that idea, because his cooling fans kicked on max the trigger happy mech threw his chair back into the Tracker,

Hound didn't seem to care about being pushed back aways, because the tracker tilted his helm, watching as Ironhide, well, threw himself onto Hound, both went crashing to the ground, Prowl didn't need to look over to tell their lips had connected, And quite frankly, he didn't want to, either.

"If you were words on a page, you'd be what they call FINE PRINT!" Inferno shouted impossibly loud, as if voicing that, Yeah, he had been quiet, but he was still there!

"Is your name Mickey?" Sideswipe asked no one. The red twin wheezed out "Because your so fine!"

At that, Jazz threw back his chair, throwing his arms out and swaying his hips while shouting out of tune.

"Hey Mickey your so fine, your so fine you blow my mind HEY MICKEY!"

"HEY, HEY, HEY MICKY!" Bluestreak cheered in, and suddenly, things escalated quickly, because Sideswipe stood up as well, yanking Bluestreak up with him as they all joined in in a chorus of hey Mickey, seriously, Prowl, Sunstreaker and Ironhide -giving the mech was making out on the floor with Hound- were the only ones not to jump up and starting singing along. He swore he even heard Wheeljack yell. 'Hey Mickey!' From the other side of the room.

It was then when Prowl realized that he had been pretty much the only Autobot not to say any pick up lines, his face scrunched up in deep though, thinking over everything that he liked. Hoping he would come up with something.

His mind was a bit fragged up at the moment, of course, high grade would to that to a bot.

_Lets see... _Prowl though, humming outwardly, everything else around him seemed to vanish into dull back round sound.

_Things I like? Things I like... Jazz. I like Jazz, Jazz is a nice bot, he's pretty, sexy, sleek, and outgoing_.

_Lets see. Jazz has a nice smile, a nice pain job, nice moves and- oh!_

Prowl leaned to the side, catching a glimpse of Jazz's aft, which went unnoticed by the others, not that Prowl would have seen them looking, anyway.

_He's got a nice aft too._

Prowls hand shot up with a snap of his fingers.

_I got it! I got it! _

Jerking his helm up, Prowl hardly realized he had been leaning over to far In his chair until his hole body jerked, the chair seeming to be pulled put from underneath him as he face planted right into the ground. The others found this so funny, laughing their helms off.

Jazz reached down to help the bot up, but it wasn't needed, Prowl jumped up fast, attempting to mask his mistake by making a quick comeback, perhaps it was a bit too fast, because he lost his footing, falling strait back down on his aft.

"Someones to drunk to stand!" Inferno hollered while he laughed, the entire room lit up with laughter, but Prowl found this no need, determined to have his joke told, Because it WOULD be, Prowl put both his hands on the edge of the table, gripping it tightly, he used it as leverage, pulling himself right to the edge, aft scraping against the floor, it seemed like the hardest thing in the world at that moment.

Once he was close enough, Prowl hoisted himself up, he couldn't help but feel awesome as all optics watched him make an epic comeback. Once he was standing, Prowl put both hands on the table.

"I am sober." Prowl growled at Inferno, somehow taking the to drunk to stand exclamation to spark, Inferno reeled back in a fake display of fear, his optics narrowing playfully.

"Are you now?" He voiced smartly, tilting his helm at Prowl. Said mechs door wings jerked with irritation, Prowl didn't quite know why he did it, but he leaned himself over the table and closer to Inferno, and in a drawled out, confident whisper, he said.

"Soberrrr."

Infernos lips pulled down in some kind of horrified, but deeply amused frown, he rocked his body slowly to the side, Giving Smokescreen a one optic wider then the other look. With an optic ridge raised, Inferno turned back to Prowl, Jazz's loud musical laughter was hardly heard by the two.

"Sure..." Inferno said slowly, giving him a equally slow nod of his helm as he said it. But still, Prowl didn't move from his leaned over, standing position, optics a light blue, lips set in a small frown.

"I'm soberer then you are." Prowl told him, Inferno, who looked just a bit freaked out, drew his servo to his chassis and lightly touched his spark chamber with his digits while he drawled.

"Okay..." The smallest hint of a grin rose on Prowls face as he leaned away from Inferno. the second those optics roamed away from the fire escapes own, he turned to look to the others, a look that asked. 'Did that just happen?'

Jazz had his hands over his mouth to keep from laughing and ruining to moment, however, he nodded excitedly at inferno showing that he understood the question and yep, that just happened.

"Hey Jazz?" Prowl announced loudly his normal emotionless voice gone, instead, it was replaced by a low pitched to high pitch wobbly, slurring voice. Prowl slammed his servos against the table once, trying to get the mechs attention.

"Yeah, mech?" Jazz quarried removing his visor from Inferno, leaning in to hear what the Paraxian had to say, venting, Prowl smirked.

"Did you sit in a pile of sugar? Because you've got a pretty sweet aft!" The hole room went quiet once more, optics wide, all thinking the same thing.

_Did Prowl just?_

However, Prowl was already giggling, which seemed to set the others off, because the entire room erupted with laughter, boasting Prowls ego, Prowls giggle seemed to get higher pitched as the seconds ticked by, so high pitched that, Prowls vocalizer fuzzed out and his giggles were replaced by long, drawled out breathy hee hee hee's. Jazz's optics went wide at the display, before he could stop it, a loud, bellowing laugher exploded from his vocalizer. he slammed his helm against the table, laughing his helm off, one thought running through his processor.

_Only two hours in, Tanigh's gonna be'ya good night._

Once again, the song changed, Cirtisy of the smirking Blaster behind the scenes.

_Go cops, get the dogs_

_Let's go fuck with old folks_

_That's right, let's get high_

_and pull over black guys_

_Get buzzed,_

_smoke some drugs_

_Bitch, I'm rollin' with the fuzz, now_

_Po, po, po, po_

_Po, po, po, po_

_Smoke rocks!_

_With the cops_

_Let's go storm the barber shop_

_It sure is nice, bein' white_

_Haha, just kiddin' black guys!_

_Waving guns,_

_at some nuns,_

_bitch bend over,_

_we the fuzz, hoe_

_Po, po, po, po_

_Po, po, po, po!_

Jazz only laughed harder.

**TBC... Review!**


	4. Chapter 4

Part four.

**A/N. Ello my lovely readers! This is part four, or chapter four whatever you wanna call it. Not gonna give anything away but this chapter is the reason why I put 'Smut' in the summery. Well, somewhat. just a little foreshadow, i use the spike/port for interfacing in my fanfictions, but plug and play still comes in in later**

**Chapters.**

**Oh and thank you to these people for reviewing!**

**-Starscreamfan101, Ratchet171, Kkcliffy, ohhhhhh Primus, Jaki822.**

**I hope you enjoy it. And give me your thoughts!**

**Warnings: Smut, sticky foreplay. Spike/port.**

**Rating: M**

**Songs: **

**Scream-Usher.**

**Drink a beer- Luke Brian.**

**Tonight- ThemSoundWaves/Jazz.**

**Disclaimer: i Don't own transformers only the plot and the song called 'Tonight' that Jazz sings.**

* * *

><p>It was about that time at night where things were starting to calm down. The room separated into just about four groups.<p>

One group, the 'bots who had fallen asleep or passed out. That little group included Sunstreaker, Bluestreak and Gears.

The second group were the 'bots that had either left to recharge, or to sneak off for some interface. Hound, Ironhide, Marriage and Huffer were part of that group.

The third group, which could only be labeled as the 'still partying' group where, although the scene around them had died down quite a bit, they still danced around and drank. Jazz, Sideswipe, Blaster, Bumblebee, Arcee and Bulkhead. Sideswipe purged a few times, but the mech was still dancing.

And then there was the fourth, the relaxers. The ones who, were still drunk, but to lazy to move, either that or they didn't want to.

Prowl was one of them, he sat along side Wheeljack as well as Optimus Prime himself, Elita was wrapped up in the Autobot leaders arms, Fast asleep.

They were having a conversation, Prowl and Wheeljack, but for some reason it abruptly stopped. They both went uncannily quiet as they watched the others around them. But as the minuets passed more of group four left. And It wasn't long before Wheeljack bid him goodnight and left as well, probably to hunt down Ratchet, leaving Prowl completely alone in the back to watch Jazz. And mech, was that something to watch Jazz was living it up, completely wasted, dancing himself around like no one was watching.

In fact, Prowl could have sworn he had seen Optimus sitting beside him with Elita a second ago... His optics must be going bad.

The music was still loud. But Prowl had gotten used to it by now. He either ignored it or well, that's pretty much all he did.

_When I got the news today_

_I didn't know what to say._

_So I just hung up the phone._

_I took a walk to clear my head,_

_This is where the walking led_

_Can't believe you're really gone_

_Don't feel like going home._

_So I'm gonna set right here_

_On the edge of this pier_

_Watch the sunset disappear..._

_And drink a beer..._

Prowl lifted his head to look at the booth which Blaster was sitting in. He couldn't ignore this song, and he had to admit, this kind of music really relaxed him. It was the melody, the soft strokes of the acoustic guitar, there was no drum beat present, but that only made it better. This genre didn't over do itself like most others. Although Prowl didn't know the name It was still perfect, touching, and memorable.

A little barley there smile stretched on Prowls lips as he shuttered his optics, his helm casting down to face the ground. His wings slowly fluttered behind him, although the lyrics to the song weren't the best or happiest, the soft melody, and that deep baritone that sang perfectly to him was enough.

_Funny how the good ones go_

_Too soon, but the good Lord knows_

_The reasons why, I guess_

_Sometimes the greater plan_

_Is kinda hard to understand_

_Right now it don't make sense_

_I can't make it all make sense_

_So I'm gonna set right here_

_On the edge of this pier_

_Watch the sunset disappear..._

_And drink a beer_

Prowls fingers drummed against the metal of his legs creating his own drum beat to go with the song, his foot softly tapped along. He found himself looking over to the seat where Wheeljack had been sitting, only to find himself not so much alone anymore.

He was happy to see Jazz, although he didn't see him sneak up to sit beside him. He was even happier to see he was somewhat in the same trance Prowl was in. With a little more confidence then he would normally have, Prowls hand slipped out touching just the top of Jazz's hand. Jazz looked up, a smile that completely melted Prowls spark present. Jazz's helm tilted, but his servo turned over. Prowl placed his servo in Jazz's. their fingers curled, resting.

_So long my friend_

_Until we meet again_

_I'll remember you_

_And all the times that we used to..._

_... set right here on the edge of this pier_

_And watch the sunset disappear..._

_...And drink a beer_

_Drink a beer,_

_Drink a beer._

_Yeah._

"Ya like this music?" Jazz asked, still staring down at their interlocked fingers. Prowl nodded, a little upset that the song had ended, his optics finally trailed from his hand to Jazz's visor.

"Just this genre." Prowl confirmed with a brisk but somewhat dazed nod of his helm. Jazz squeezed his partners hand, moving his chair closer to Prowls.

"Country? Ya, its quite soothin', good ta listen to when ya relaxin'" Jazz agreed, his tone low and honeyed, the kind where, one would think he had just woken up from recharge. Prowl made a soft, drawn out content sigh, leaning his body over, resting his helm down on Jazz's shoulder. Jazz placed his helm on Prowls head, his other hand coming over to hold the TICS unoccupied one.

"Ya know, ah made a song, for ya." Jazz said thoughtfully. Prowl hummed, nuzzling his helm closer to Jazz's cables, tracing the small connection lines on his partners servo.

"Sing it to me." Prowl said softly, tilting his head to look up at Jazz, who looked down at him.

"Ya want me ta?" He asked, as if he hadn't expected that. Prowl nodded, lifting his helm to kiss Jazz's cheek.

"Please do."

"Alright." Jazz wetted his lips, fingers letting go of Prowls only to wrap around the Paraxians back, hugging him close. Jazz began to hum, a low sound that hit Prowl right in the spark.

"_Tonight is tha' night things will change between us._

_Tonight is tha' night, ya it is._

_Tonight is tha' night ah will show ah care._

_Tonight, yeah tonight... This is it."_

Jazz paused, Prowls smile widened. Jazz's voice was perfect, it was heaven. Just being there in his arms was enough to make Prowls world go around.

"_This here? Look around ya, ah want ya ta take this all in._

_Where you are, where Ah'am, and who's arms ya are in. _

_Ah want you ta remember this, jus' how it is._

_Save it in a file an' seal it with a kiss."_

Jazz's main digit began to circle Prowls back between his wings in a soothing manor. As if it emphasize his point, Jazz used his left servo to tilt Prowls helm up to his, where Jazz placed a soft, tender kiss on his TIC's lips. He pulled away softly, still humming.

"_Tonight is tha' night ah will show ya mah spark,_

_Tonight is tha' night, yes it is._

_Tonight is tha' night ah will love ya like art._

_Tonight, yeah tonight... This is it._

_Can ya see meh? Ah'm hidin' nothin' from you._

_Ya don't gatta tell me, but you can show meh too._

_Tell meh what makes ya happy,_

_Angry or sad._

_Tell meh, Prowler, do ya like'em good or bad?" _

At that, Prowl snorted, rolling his optics at the mech who was holding him. Jazz paused once again a small grin on his face plates. He looked at the Paraxian as if he wanted an answer. Prowl pursed his lips.

"That depends." He answered. Jazz's lips lifted up into a lopsided grin, Finger darting out to trace Prowls small smile. It seamed that answer satisfied him.

"_Tonight is tha' night ah will battle yo demons._

_Tonight is tha' night, yeah it is._

_Tonight is tha' night ya light up like a beacon._

_Tonight, yeah, tonight... This is it._

_Prowl, less' be honest, ya can turn meh down._

_Ah promise ah'll respect ya, ah won't even frown._

_But before ya say, there's one thing ya should know._

_Prowl, Ah've loved ya, since a lon' time ago."_

Prowls optics offlined as he moved himself closer to Jazz. Jazz smiled down at his lover, optics narrowed to examine every feature, from the red of his chevron to the black of his pedes.

Jazz was singing in a repeating tune, causing Prowls processor to go numb with lovely thoughts. He was so taken away by the lyrics. He couldn't even hear the actual song playing in the background. All he focused on was the vibrating of the mechs vocal cords and the thrumming of his spark.

_"Tonight is tha' night ah will hold ya against meh._

_Tonight is tha' night, yeah it is._

_Tonight is tha' night well be whoever we should be._

_Tonight, yeah tonight, this is it..._

_Ah don' want ya'ta leave, but if ya want ah'll go._

_But 'gain fore ah leave ah want ya'ta know. _

_Ah may sound sappy, but this is from mah spark._

_Yes Prowler, ah speak the truth, less' tell tha' whole Ark._

_Ah want ya. Is it so hard ta see?_

_Do ya share this feelin' or is it jus' meh? _

_Can you tell me who ya love,_

_An' ill love ya righ' back._

_'Cause this ain't a fable. Issa written fact._

_Tonight is tha' night that well dance till we hurt._

_Tonight is tha' night, ya it is._

_Tonight is tha' night together our sparks will burn._

_Tonight, is tha' night, yes it is._

_Prowler, tonight is tha' night imma make ya laugh harder._

_Oh tonight, yes tonight, this is it._

_Tonight is tha' night, ya ill make ya dreams come true._

_Tonight, yes tonight, ah'll listen, an' be there for you."_

Prowls optics onlined, he moved himself so he was sitting up. Jazz's servos dropped, then sought out his own, curling their digits together once again. Jazz leaned in, forehelm to forehelm and softly, he sang.

"_Tonight is tha night..._

_Ya something ah treasure._

_Tonight is tha' night..._

_If ah didn' know better._

_Tonight is tha' night _

_But what ah know_

_Tonight, yes this night..._

_Its'a Night Ta Remember." _

There was a long pause where they both relished in the feeling of one another. Then Jazz continued, his tone normal but still somewhat sing-singsong.

"And ya can bet ya aft ah ain't gonna forget it." Prowl was lost for words. Actually, no words could have ever summed up what he was feeling right then. He watched Jazz stand up and kneel before him, cupping Prowls hands in his own. Finally, Prowl swallowed finding his words.

"How long have you been working on that?" It was a simple question, and Prowl wanted to know. To him it was well thought out, it made the mech want to tell Jazz everything.

"'Bout...couple'a days at tha most, didn' take tha' long, it was easy. All ah had'ta do was thinka all tha things ah wanna do ta ya." Prowl ducked his helm, going suddenly shy. It was then when I clawed digit snuck up to slowly lift his helm up.

"Ah ain't gonna forget ya, Prowl" He told the TIC honestly. Prowl made a face. That had to have been the first time the mech ever called him by his actual name. And for some reason, he didn't like it as much as the nicknames. Prowl was about to open his mouth to tell the mech that he wanted him to call him 'Prowler' but Jazz beat him to it.

"Can ah show ya how much ah love ya, Prowler?" Prowl tilted his helm, an honest cirousity lingering in his blue optics, they trailed down from Jazz's optics to his lips, to his chin, then back up again.

He didn't know how to respond to that, frag, he couldn't even open his mouth and form any words. But it seamed Blaster fixed that problem, with a loud, hip hop song turning on, Jazz flashed a grin.

_And I've tried to fight it, to fight it_

_But you're so magnetic, magnetic_

_Got one life, just live it, just live it_

_Now relax, and get on your back_

_If you wanna scream, yeah_

_Let me know and I'll take you there_

_Get you going like_

_Ah-ooh baby baby ooh baby baby_

_Ah-ooh baby baby ooh baby_

_If you wanna turn right_

_Hope you're ready to go all night_

_Get you going like_

_Ah-ooh baby baby ooh baby baby_

_Ah-ooh baby baby ooh baby_

_If you wanna scream._

It was an abrupt change of attitude, Prowl had to admit. One minuet Jazz was kneeling before him, looking at him with love and honesty. The next the mech was doing well... _This_.

"What are you doing?" Prowl asked, optic ridge coked up just an inch as he watched Jazz slowly stand up, then sway fluidly in front of him.

"Ah'm dancin' for ya Prowler." Prowl shivered. Licking his lips just a bit as his optics trailed down Jazz's front, to his legs which were glued to the ground. however, his knees bent, hips swayed, His hands caressed his own thighs, sliding up to tickle his own headlights, nipping at his facial plates before finally smoothing over his helm.

Prowl watched the SICs hands as they repeated this, although slightly different, his servos lingered on his gleaming interface panel, digits dipping into the seams by his thighs as if trying to turn himself on. Prowl bit his lip, hands tightening on the chair he was sitting on just a little bit, his body going stiff, his own panned was heating up just a fraction, he could feel his spike twitch at the show before him.

"Ya like?" Jazz smirked, leaning over Prowl, those talented servos on his shoulders, aft sticking out behind him as he began lavishing Prowl with his hands.

They went in almost the same trail as they did when Jazz was doing It to himself, down his bumper, circling his headlights, lingering on his stomach plaiting, drawing small, soft circles on the rapidly heating metal there.

Prowl groaned just a shy as soft tingles tickled him wherever Jazz touched. His helm fell back against the chair, back arching up just a bit into those beautiful touches.

"Mmmh." Prowl moaned, offlining his optics. Jazz positioned himself between Prowls legs, his servos leaving Prowls body causing the mech to feel suddenly empty. Prowls optics snapped open, just in time to see Jazz lift his servos into the air, hip cocking to the side as he lowered himself down to the tune of the music.

"Beautiful..." Prowl breathed as he watched the breathtaking scene, his spark pounded heavily in its chamber, his hand moved out to touch the saboteurs shoulder, so gently, as if one touch would cause him to disappear. Just as musically as Jazz bent down, he lifted himself up again. His servos resting on the TICs thighs, softly, slowly moving up his body to his neck, it took Prowl a minuet to realize that Jazz was now sitting on his lap.

Prowls servos sought out something to hold, immediately attaching themselves to Jazz's hips. Jazz leaned down while Prowl leaned up, their forehelms touched.

"Hey Prowler." Jazz said softly, Prowl smiled at the SIC, giving the mech an eskimo kiss. Something he would normally never do in public.

"Hey, Jazz." Prowl's voice brittle, tender, those servos that were once around the saboteur's waist came up to grip the SIC's upper arms. He was unaware of the fact that his thumb was gently massaging the silver metal there.

"How're ya feelin'?" Jazz asked, sliding his hand ever so slowly down the black and whites neck, coming to rest on his bumper, Prowl shivered under his touch, helm pushing just a bit more into Jazz's

"I'm alright, How are you?" While Prowl said this, his helm tilted back to kiss up the others nasal ridge, soft buttery kisses on Jazz's visor, a white hand moved up to meet a black one, fingers interlocking, Jazz pushed himself closer to his crush.

"Ah'm havin' a good time, with you, O' course." Prowl couldn't stop his faceplates from heating up, Jazz smirked kindly at this, said mech leaned down, nipping at Prowls neck cables.

"Wha'? Ain't been complimented before?" Jazz asked, his voice set atease. Prowls head leaned back against the chair once again, giving the mech before him more access to his cables and lines, each little kiss dragged the Paraxian deeper down into a private heaven, they became softer, Prowls optics shuttered, a soft sigh escaping him.

"I have b-been." Prowl managed, well aware of the others servos once again circling his headlights, Prowls grip tightened on Jazz's fore arms. "Oh?" Jazz crooned, his glossia darting out to lick up Prowls neck, over his chin, to his lips. Prowl wanted to suck that glossia in and kiss the mech so badly, but Jazz pulled away before he could.

Jazz chuckled softly at his partners rather irritated look at being teased, Jazz lifted his right hand, which was still curled around the enforcers, he dipped his helm towards it, as Prowl looked over, the saboteur slowly pulled his fingers from around the others, then flattened his hand, palm to palm.

"Ya see this?" Jazz asked, still looking at their hands.

"Yes Jazz, I see it."

"Do ya know tha' meanin', though." Prowl tilted his helm, a curious look spreading on his face as he observed their hands, after a minuet, his processor telling him nothing, the TIC shook his head.

"This, this resembles a new begnin' fer tha' both o' us, Together." That had to have been the sweetest thing anyone had ever told the Paraxian, his wings fluttered behind him as his lips curled into a smile.

"What ya say, Prowler? Wanna start a new begnin'?" Prowls optics offlined as he used his unoccupied servo to cup the back of Jazz's helm, forcing him closer, a digit shot out to rub delicate circles around the mechs audio horns.

"Jazz." Prowl stated, optics slowly coming back, they locked on that beautiful baby blue visor.

"Don't stop calling me that."

"What? Prowler?" Prowl shivered at the low tone his partner used. "Yes, that." Prowl breathed, once again lips coming up to pepper the others face. Jazz leaned into the touch, fingers once again interlocking, his other servo laying flat against Prowls chest.

Prowls servo slid from Jazz's audio horn to his face, resting on the crook of his cheek. Jazz once again leaned into the touch, the softest of smiles present.

"Is tha' a yes?" The saboteur quarried.

"Jazz..." Uh-oh, Jazz didn't like that tone one bit, it was the warning tone. The turn down tone, swallowing, Jazz angled his helm down a bit to capture Prowls entire face.

"Ya, Prowler?" Prowl smirked, causing the white mech to tilt his helm.

"Ask me in the morning, because I want to remember it." Prowl said softly, pulling Jazz's helm to his. Prowls spark lit up like a drum in its casing, Jazz's gaze moved from his lips to his optics several times, watching for a reaction.

Prowl jumped a bit when Jazz's lips finally touched his. Jazz pulled away to look at him, the Paraxian frowned just a bit at his partners lack of lips on his own, however, he wasn't frowning for long.

Jazz pressed his lips against his once again. There was nothing tentative about it, his kiss was confident, needy, but loving, pure deliciousness. Jazz's glossia darted out to trace the seams of Prowls lips, said mechs helm tilted, lips parting, allowing Jazz access which, was used without hesitation. Jazz's glossia snuck into Prowls mouth as if wanting to sample every part of it, Prowl pushed back, eager to taste Jazz. Their glossias fought a heated battle, each one trying to gain the upper hand and for a key into the others territory.

Prowls hands cupped that beautiful helm while Jazz's slipped down his back, twiddling with the hinges of his door wings, fingers dipping into the door handle, rubbing a hidden patch of sensory nodes Prowl didn't even know were there.

Prowl arched his back, his kiss becoming more furious as Jazz toyed with his wings, Prowls hands shot out to return the favor, digits eagerly slipping into the seams of Jazz's chassis, tracing his spark chambers latch, then, they wrapped around his back, pulling the SIC flush against him.

All to soon it was over, Jazz pulled away, a line of fluid being the only thing still attaching their lips to the others, Prowl was panting, cooling fans on maximum to cool himself down, however, it seamed Jazz wasn't done. Prowls optics widened when the mech lapped up the line of fluid, chasing it back to its owner, Prowl pushed hard into the others lips, only for Jazz to pull away.

Prowl frowned, a small whine coming from his throat. Jazz smirked at this, a servo jerking just the right way over the latch of his door handle, Prowls moan was loud, sudden, optics fading to a near white.

"Mmmh, ah found tha' good spot huh?" Jazz crooned, swooping in to attack Prowls neck, denta pulling slightly at the cables while Jazz continued to tease both his door wings' handles, causing the Paraxian to damn near cry out in bliss.

Prowls spike was fully erect, pressing painfully against its housing, thrumming wildly trying to escape. Prowl cringed just a bit as his spike pulsed and throbbed, begging Prowl to be let lose. His plaiting heated up to a boiling point beneath Jazz who, chortled softly at the growing heat and the small bulge of Prowls plaiting as his spike pressed against the metal.

Prowl stifled a gasp when Jazz centred himself right over the inflaming metal, hands in his shoulders to push himself down on it. He slowly moved himself foreword, His own heated cod piece grinding against Prowls own. Jazz moaned quietly, a sound that caused Prowl to tremble, a shiver wrecking through his frame as Jazz pushed down harder, moving himself back and forth.

Prowls hands smoothed over his partners legs, to his aft where Prowl happily helped the SIC out, forcefully scraping Jazz's metal against his own. His helm fell back once more against the chair, hands going slack as Jazz leaned up to nibble on Prowls neck.

"Prowler..." Jazz whined, pulling at his neck cables again, One of Jazz's servos shot to trail down the TIC's stomach. Jazz reached behind him with the other, using his claws to gently scratch up Prowls inner thighs, His hips jerked up into Jazz's panel, both grunted.

Jazz lifted himself up, his servo cupping the bulge of his interface panel, Prowls optics fuzzed, his hips jerked once again into that hand. The others around them were either to drunk to notice, or saw but didn't care. But that didn't stop Prowls interface panel snapped open, his spike pointing strait into the air. Jazz smirked, hovering just above Prowls spike while he looked at it, examining it.

With unicorns grin himself, Jazz sneakily took a hold of Prowls spike, lowering himself down a bit so he was behind Prowls part. Jazz watched with an undying smirk as Prowl glanced around him nervously, lips parted just an inch.

"'Lax Prowler, ain't nobody gonna see us." Jazz whispered, his mouth nipping at the TICS neck, Prowl sucked in a hissing vent, leaning his head back just in time for Jazz to playfully squeeze the paraxians spike.

"J-Jazz..." Prowl moaned softly, fingers tightening on the saboteurs hips. Jazz slowly trailed his glossia up Prowls neck, stopping at his lips, Although they weren't kissing Prowl could still feel the smirk on his partners lips.

"Yes, Prowler?" Jazz drawled, squeezing just hard enough to make the TIC grip tighten even more. Prowl growled dangerously, bucking his hips up again, causing Jazz's hand to forcefully rub against his spike.

"Ya want it, Prowler?" Jazz whispered, fingers twitching on Prowls appendage His thumb rising up to rub against the slit of it, Prowls hips jerked again, his optics pleading Jazz.

"Jazz.. Stop... Stop teasing me." With a chuckle, Jazz retorted. "Yes, Sir." And then the pleasure hit.

Prowl couldn't stop the gasps, moans and pants from coming when Jazz twirled his hand around his spike like that, hand tight against it. Jazz twisted his servo while lifting his hand up, Prowls legs stiffened, gears locking, Then, Jazz went faster.

Oh, oh it felt so good, the way Jazz yanked his spike hard, fast, their lips connected once again, Prowls fingers dig deep into Jazz's hip seams, the other hand rubbing against Jazz's own interface panel.

"Ahhh, P-Prowler." Jazz whimpered, pushing himself into that touch while he continued his long, speedy strokes on Prowls spike, Prowl hissed, fingers curling, leaving long silver scratches on the mechs panel.

"Open." Prowl demanded, it wasn't fair that he was getting all the pleasure. and to be honest, Prowl wanted to see what the mech did when he overloaded. His command was answered without a second thought. Jazz's panel imedetly opened for him. Prowls optics lingered over the sleek black layered metal of his partners spike, then to Jazz's port, which was dripping bright pink transfluid, plopping onto Prowls thighs and legs.

After his little look over, Prowl didn't even hesitate. Two digits thrusted up into that wet, dripping port.

Jazz cried out, servo stopping all moments as pleasure assaulted him like a full blown attack. Prowl snarled at the lack of movement, thrusting his hips up, causing the dazed saboteur to continue his quest.

Prowls fingers curled inside Jazz's port, the tips twitching fast, rubbing against every node he could find, Prowl leaned up, now uncaring about the rest of the room, his lips slammed against Jazz's while he pulled his fingers out, only to add another, shoving those three digits up Jazz's port as far as they could go.

"Primus!" Jazz cried out, his body arching, helm rested on Prowls chassis, said mech took that as his chance to engulf one of Jazz's horns in his mouth, causing the music loving bot to jerk beneath him.

"I prefer to be called Prowler" The TIC ground out between Jazz's audio horns. his spike was throbbing, he was close, so close, his fingers thrusted harder and faster into Jazz's port, transfluid coated his entire hand, in response, Jazz squeezed Prowls spike hard, slamming his balled servo down to the base of it, beads of transfluid accumulated on the tip of Prowls spike, his face scrunched up, fingers picking up speed.

"Oh... J-Jazz!" Prowl damn near screamed out, his frame jerking as a ball of energy grew in his spark to its breaking point. He pushed his digits faster, his body heating up rapidly, cooling fans threatening to overheat.

"Prowler!" Jazz screamed back, the silence that followed went unnoticed by the two as their bodies shivered together, Prowl arched his back, just as Jazz arched his. Overload took over them both, Transfluid shot out from Prowls spike, coating Jazz's chassis, Jazz's own spike began to pump fluid, spraying itself all over Prowls heated chassis.

Prowl could only preform one last jerk as Jazz's body collapsed onto his own, Prowls optics closed, body slumping, his systems shutting down from a system overload.

_**EA/N. hope that satisfied you all. Lets just call that the calm before the storm. And yes. That is a hint. **_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Miss me? Sorry about not being here for a whiIe I skipped school and got my ipod taken away for a week, stupid mistake, Right? (Don't skip school) anyway I couldn't write anything for my fanfictions. But I'm back now. **

**for this chapter I'm introducing an OC. Im not to good when it comes to the Decepticons, so rather then using one and having it end up being too OCC, I'm adding my own character in. I'm not sure how many times you will see him, but not a lot, for this story is about Prowl and Jazz not about some OC character. However, if you guys like this OC I could add him in some other times by your request. This is in the Decepticon POV though the first part of the chapter. Enjoy and give me your feedback on this new character.**

**warnings: talk about interface and transfluid, Voilence, lots of 'frags'.**

** rating: T**

* * *

><p>Sitting hidden among the large tan rocks lining the Ark and the vast space around it, a light grey and red frame hunkered down in the comfort of the early nights shadows. The sun was beginning to tuck tail and abandon this side of the earth for the other. The last rays shot out, struggling to reach out and illuminate the figure.<p>

The figures red optics watched those single rays of light behind an orange visor. Although, the Decepticon who was wearing the visor hated it, he had to use it if only for the inferred sight that allowed him to see the targets inside the base through the walls.

The colored figure moved slightly, taking his gaze from the thinning lights to peer back over the rock he was behind, looking up with a tired expression at the large Autobot ship. He had been squatting for the past hour and a half. Observing the Autobots inside the base, like he had been _told_ to do.

Scouting was a _fun_ job. Please, take note of the fragging sarcasm. It wasn't fun unless you happened to enjoy sitting in the same spot for _hours_ on end stalking someone. But somebots actually like doing that slag, so who was he to judge?

But back to the point, he _absolutelyhated_ scouting missions. Was that all he was good for these days? Sitting there and staring at someone? Or more then one someone's? If he was being payed he demand more credits for just sitting there... But he wasn't being paid, so that_really_ sucked.

Radar grumbled tiredly under his breath, not that any of the autobots could hear him over that loud aft music, or well at all really. He was pretty far away, so it would be hard for anyone to hear his small grumble from the distance, he hardly heard it himself.

What He _wanted_ to do was roll onto his back and recharge. He wanted to go back to the Nemisis and watch more of that human entertainment. Also, he wanted to just get the frag out of there. He hated scouting, hated it!

But _nooo_ Megatron demanded he would have to sit there until he either gathered worthy information- and no, sadly, noting that the Autobots were indeed inside the base was apparently _not_worthy information- or until he passed out, which again he really wanted to do.

He wanted a lot of things, to many things, things that he would never get. Like a Cyberwolf, wouldn't it be awesome to have a pet Cyberwolf running around you? Or one of those hugeee cool looking shoulder cannons like the ones Metroplex had. or Maybe new Audios that could mute people, because his didn't seam to want to mute anything. But one thing he wanted, one thing he wanted most of all...

Was to just _fragging_ recharge. Oh, he'd kill for a good recharge right about then, but back to the first note, he_COULDN'T_. Because he was 'scouting' (aka, stalking) the Autobot base.

Finally having enough of the squatting, Radar leaned back and let the earths gravity take over. Plopping him right down on his aft. A mini dust storm picked up around him when he landed but that didn't stop him from stretching his legs out before him to wheel his wheeled feet up and down the orange rock in front of him a few times. (Think movie verse Sideswipe) but that all in its own became boring. It took a minuet to get there, but it did.

Who knew Autobots could party so hard? Wasn't partying and drinking for the decepticons? They'd been going at it for the past four hours. Nonstop upbeat music of all kinds, some made him hum along others made him want a mute button even more. He had even seen a few bots purge outside before running back in. Mainly that red one, Sideswipe, was it? Remember names? Hah, he was to lazy for that.

Oh, he also wanted to go in there and party as well, who wouldn't? he could use a wash rack too, he felt dirty, sitting there in all that organic sand for so long. Was it _two whole hours_ now? He probably had sand in those places nobot wanted sand to be... Actually now that he though about it...

Yep, he had sand there. Just great, fragging great, he was going to look like a sand monster when he stood up, he knew it. Having sand fall out of different places.

_Oooh look at me, I'm the sandman, back away before I make you all... Sandy_.

It would be funny, but not for him. He could truly care less about his looks, but he hated sand, he hated it more then he hated scouting. And that, is A LOT of hate.

But anyway...

Couldn't they have sent out someone else? Like Barricade for instance, he was a scout too! Frag, Barricade hadn't been sent out on a mission for ages, Radar was deployed not four days ago to do the _same exact_ pit-spawned thing he was doing right now! He was even sitting in the _same_ fragging place he was before! Literally! If he looked hard enough he could probably find his indent from before.

"It's boring out here, dont'cha'know?" Radar drawled to himself in his deep somewhat Jamaican accent. He knew no one else was listening to him. So why not start a conversation? With a heavy vent and a nasty sounding clear of his vocalizer, Radar allowed himself to actually fall back onto his back he kicked his wheels up on the rock once again. Legs crossed, hands resting behind his helm letting he let his scanner do its job take control of where the Autobots were.

"Uh-huh, boring as eva'" He replied to himself. Was he really that bored that conversations with himself seamed more interesting what he was doing? You know what'd be interesting? If he actually got his aft up and walked inside the base.

With that thought in mind, Radar threw his head up, his hands outstretched before him as if to grab onto something, his digits grabbed nothing but that didn't stop him from throwing out a grunt, attempting to heave himself up.

But _that_ failed horribly, like everything_else_ in his life. His body came crashing back to the earth like a meteor to a planet, and he was right back to where he started... Somewhat.

Radar groaned rocking his helm to the side. Why was this so hard? His body was being lazy, he wanted to get up, but his body didn't want to. He shouldn't have laid down in the first place, now he was never getting back up.

...The everyday struggles.

The grey mech started up at the darkening sky for a few minuets, counting the stars that looked down on him from above like some kind of supreme force. He didn't think of anything, really. His processor was blank, all his thoughts that he did have soon became overused and plain.

He had to think of something to do, anything to pass the unending time. He had already done everything though... He had counted the rocks, counted the panels on the front of the Ark then calculated how many panels the entire ship had both outside and inside, under it and the roof.

There were twenty thousand eight hundred and forty two, incase you were wondering.

He took a handful of sand and counted the individual little sand rocks in it. He had also stood still for sixty minuets while a weird looking black bird that he named Chester, sat on his helm and looked around.

Chester was the best part of the day to be honest, to bad he released some of his chunky white fluids onto Radars helm, that caused the mech to think the bird was attacking him with acid.

And it ended with a dead Chester.

But Radar buried him, so it was okay.

"I spy, wit' my fraggin' optic..." Yes, it had come to this, the 'I spy' game. That's how bored he was. He was beyond the point of no return.

"Som'em..." His optics roamed around the world around him, it was hard to tell colors mostly because of how dark it was.

"Organic."

Radar snorted, rolling his optics at his own stupidity, face palming. "Well _das_easy." He mumbled into his hand, without lifting his face up, Radar solved his question.

"Sand. Oo, I nailed d'at one, din'I?"

The dry chuckle that left him was more forced then a true laugh. He rolled over to his side, Propping up on his elbow.

"I spy wit' my fraggin' optic som'em... Handsome. Oh, Dat ones easy too, me."

"I spy wit' my fraggin optic som'em... Red." He paused, looking around acting as if he honestly didn't know what he was looking for.

"Oh, look at dat, 's me again."

Playing I spy by your self was pretty sad. Radar had to admit that it was just about as stupid as Megatron getting a puppy. At the moment, Radar thought he himself was stupid, or something like that. He couldn't spot a single important thing with the Autobots. _That's_ why he was a warrior instead of a scout.

Because warriors didn't have to sit there and watch they just ran right in after the scout confirmed the attack.

Wait... They were partying, that could be worthy information! It could be the perfect opportunity to attack the base when they were all to drunk to defend themselves!

Now all he had to do was comm. Megatron and tell him...

But his comm link was all the way up there on his helm and his hands were all the way down here... So... So _very_far away...

"Foe frags' sake man." Radar told himself rocking his helm side to side to punctuate each word. He lifted a hand grunting as he did so like it was the hardest thing in the world to do at that moment.

"Radar to Megatron, com'n."

**:This is ****_Lord_**** Megatron.:**

Radar rolled his optics still laying flat on his back. He waved his hands around the air in a 'do you _believe_ this guy?' Motion while he mouth the words.

"Lord Megatron. I tink I migh' foun' som'em of impo'nce."

**:Do tell.: **was Megatrons curt, unbelieving reply. Finally lifting himself up, Radar willed himself to actually do his job by peaking back over the rock at the Arks entrance.

"Da Aut'a bots got a goo' party going on, lots'a drunkies." Radar supplied, he could practically see Megatron waving his hand for him to go on.

"And'a... Day drunk as pit, migh' be'a goo' tie' to get in dere dont'cha'know? Kill'em off And'a... Tings like dat"

There was a long pause in which Radar took that time to actually stand up, it took a minuet, but he got it. And he was right, sand did fall from his body at random places. He did a little dance twirling his fingers inside gaps to release some of the sand that was clogged. And by the time he had finished his little clean up, the comm line picked up again.

**:I see. Remain there while we ready the troops.:**

Radar growled, now that he'd actually gotten up he was being told to sit back down! Why couldn't he just go back? Like. '_Excellent job Radar, you may return to base' _seriously!

But of course, that would never happen. Radar sighed. A lot of things he wanted to do would never happen...

-(#)-

Prowl was the first to slip online, his processor slow booting up. Images came in blurs, the first figure he could distinguish was none other then Jazz. —Of course, Jazz was blocking his view from everything else in the room. so how could he not see him?— His helm was nuzzled into Prowls neck, arms wrapped tight around his back and a firm grip on his door hinges. Prowl lifted his helm up running his optics over the offlines frame, a small smile pulled his lips.

One of the softest of sounds, tiny itty bitty gears turning and clicking within such an intelligent processor. Jazz's powerful engine began puttering into awareness. Prowl watched it all, even up until a small, hardly noticeable moan accompanied the saboteurs black helm lifting up.

Jazz's visor flickered, then a long tired grin twitched onto his face. Prowl studied that grin, but for some reason it wasn't... right, it was different somehow. The grin was more... Criminal then it was normally, even in his hazed state Prowl could tell.

Moving Jazz down an inch to sit himself up, Prowl straitened his back the best he could. His helm tilted partially, only the hint of a smile on his face. He stared hard at the saboteur.

Jazz looked up at Prowls stare, then down at their chassis, just now remembering he was laying in both their transfluid. He sat up, only to notice the continuous look Prowl was giving him.

"Why ya lookin' at me like tha'?" Jazz asked his tone suggested he knew exactly why Prowl was staring at him like that but his question went unanswered. Prowl continued to stare at the mech, unmoving. Unbreaking.

"Ah, man." Jazz whined. He ducked his helm, somehow knowing that whatever he was hiding, Prowl knew. It was like Prowl knew everything. It was scarey.

"Ah couldn' help it." He bartered like a sparkling, dodging his way around the actual 'thing' by a quick look around them, and a hand to the back of his helm. To both his and Prowls surprise they had the attention of absolutely no one.

However, that random _juicy_ detail didn't, and wouldn't deter the TIC. Although it was a plus.

"Jazz." He drawled in that tone he used for the twins to get them to fess up, Jazz scratched at the back of his helm again, wiggling around a bit on Prowls lap, looking anywhere but at the TIC, finally, Jazz stopped looking down and locked his visor on Prowls chassis.

"Ah might'a, taken a few pictures a'ya, ya'know, ya make real cute faces..." Prowls optics narrowed just a hair, but the grin on his lips pulled a little wider. Little enough that one wouldn't notice it unless they knew what they were looking for.

"I'll remember that if I ever see myself somehow make its way around the Ark." Prowl tested sweeping his around the rec. room like Vanna White to prove his point. Jazz raised both hands defensively, waving them a bit in front of his face. However, when the mech seamed to finally think through what the Paraxian had said, his smile turned into a frown, he straitened up, crossing his arms over his chassis.

"Ah ain't showin' nobody mah Prowler." Jazz defended, his tone almost daring a mech to walk up to him and look at the pictures. He glared around the rec. room, his engine growling. And all this somehow caused the TIC's spark to flutter, cooling fans kicking on a notch. Outwardly, he didnt show the pleasure of being called Jazz's 'little secret.' So he just tilted his helm more so then it had been originally.

"Your Prowler?" Said mech questioned deeply, lifting a hand to pet the pholyhemix's chin, forgetting where that exact servo had been until the moment it left purple streaks over the mechs faceplate.

Feeling a little guilty, Prowl lifted his other servo to wipe the semi-dry fluid off only to have Jazz childishly smack his hand away, that earned a disapproving from Prowl immediately.

"Ya, ya mine now, 'nd don't wipe it off, ah wanna show off mah prize." Jazz crooned to his mate. And At the last word, He leaned foreword and dragged his clawed digit under Prowls chin, forcing him to look up. Although Prowl was already looking up, The TIC frowned a bit, mirror Jazz by leaning up, getting in the mechs personal bubble... If he even had one.

"You want to show me off by leaving your own transfluid on your face?" Prowl said with a raised optic ridge like didn't make any sense, and to Prowl, it really didn't. Jazz's grin broadened even more, with a brisk, silly halfway tilted nod of his helm, Jazz replied a curt. "Yep" that sounded more like a humans palmerainian or chichiwawa dog then anything else. It was too high pitched for the likes of Jazz... It sounded... Really weird, Prowl decided.

Prowl sighed, rolling his optics letting out a breathy snort of slight irritation. Although he wanted to keep him there, Prowl slowly moved Jazz down then off his lap, snapping his interface panel closed hidden to the prying optics that may or may not have been watching them. Jazz did the same, that grin still plastered on his face along side the transfluid that, to the TIC was becoming_increasingly_ irritating by the second.

Once all the was done, Prowl wiped his now purple hand off on his leg, it didn't solve the entire problem but it did make him look less guilty. Well, not really he was simply moving the transfluid from one place to another, and to be honest the spot he wiped it on was probably more noticeable then if he kept most of it on his hand. It was a stupid mistake, Prowl would admit. It he were less messed up he was sure he wouldn't have done it. But now, he was in the land of a starters hangover. The more he thought about it the harder his processor throbbed... Still, felt a little weightless, still felt a little tipsy, but the interface had sobered him up just a bit.

Prowl looked up once again for the what had to be the eighth time that day into Jazz's visor. Jazz had been staring at him, looking him up and down like some kind of pimp to his hoe. Not that Prowl was a hoe, that was his third time interfacing.

And it was defiantly the best and most pleasing interface he had ever had. Not that there was a lot to choose from.

But anyway... it was a weird look, even weirder with the fluids. He looked almost... Hungry, dare he say it, For more. Prowl decided he liked that look. But that pit spawned fluid on his face was distracting him!

"Jazz..." Prowl took that small pause to look over the rec. room, although he wanted to look at Jazz he just couldn't take him seriously with bright purple fluids on his face standing out like energon on a black canvas.

"Nuh-uh." Jazz cut in before Prowl could say anything else, already knowing what Prowl wanted him to do. The saboteur waved a pointed digit back and forth in a scolding manner, he was grinning a full length toothy grin. Prowl frowned at the waving digit, and quick, before he could even processed what exactly he was doing. Prowl pursed his lips And gave his revenge by swiftly_smacking_ the offending digit away.

It was silent, Jazz's mouth was slightly agape, the servo that Prowl had attacked hovered limp at his side, his pointer finger wilted like a dead flower. Jazz stared with disbelief at the TIC who looked with hard narrowed optics back at him. for a complete minuet the duo had a no emotion stare down, anyone could tell that Prowl was stubborned as a sparkling.

Finally, Jazz opened his mouth to say something, but all that left was a tiny squeak, he cleared his throat to correct himself and try again only to have Prowl beat him to it.

"It is going to dry, then stick and stain. And _then_ it will smell, do you really want to walk around like that?"

"Ah wan' it ta stain." Jazz retorted stubbornly. "Then it'll be there forever an' ah'll always remember ya when ah look in tha' mirror."

"That is disgusting, Jazz." Jazz opened mouth. "No, Jazz. I am not kidding. That is _really_ disgusting." Prowls face scrunched up in obvious disgust, He sniffled, wings twitching once as he tried to figure out why his processor hadn't crashed yet from the sere illogicalness of the situation.

Jazz chuckled, eyeing Prowl with the devils optic, He stood taller, looking around the rec room really quick before doing what seamed to be checking the exits. He then did something that baffled the TIC moreso then he was, Jazz used his hand to sexily run it down his frame just to smear the transfluid on his chest onto his servo. He lifted his hand when it was coated with the dryish fluid, and did something that suprised the TIC even more.

he wiped it all over his face, serously, silver was gone, all he could see was the blue of Jazz's visor.

"No sacrifice no victory. Know what ah'm sayin'?"

Despite being completely shocked, Prowl managed to speak to the SIC.

"Jazz, that makes no sense what so ever—" Jazz giggled, Almost girlishly reaching down to draw a smily face with the transfluid on his chassis. Why was there so much transfluid?

"—Stop that, you look rediclouse." Jazz continued to wipe the transfluid onto his frame though, despite Prowls pleas. he walked closer to the door winger, practically pinning Prowl against the wall so he could take whatever fluid was on Prowl and put it on himself.

Prowls optic twitched.

"Nah, ah wanna be purple, 'cause then ah'll thinka you."

It took another minuet for Prowl to find his voice once again, as this time passed, he watched Jazz take almost every last drop of transfluid off Prowl and put it on himself. Making him look tie-die purple black and white. Once the fluid was off Prowl and transferred to Jazz. Said mech almost looked sad, like there wasn't enough.

"Dang, ah need more, ya wanna gimmie some?"

"No." was Prowls immedate response, Jazz pouted, lower lip quivering as he looked down, giving Prowl the puppy dog look.

"You are obsessed." Prowl paused, looking over Jazz. "And at the moment, disgusting."

"So?" Jazz drawled cheekily, blinking his visor in such a way a human female would her eyelashes. Prowl turned away from the mech, a hand to his nasal ridge, massaging it as he made his way towards the door to save him from the embarisment that was Jazz. Was it just him, or was his helm-ache getting stronger?

"Com'ere!" Jazz called to him. Prowl only walked faster.

Two feet from the door, two feet away, but he never made it. He was tackled from behind. Fore a small Jazz was scurrying onto his frame managing to turn him over and pinning his arms down.

The room was quiet, Prowl swore m the music had stopped once again. He narrowed his optics up at Jazz, but he only got a breif glimpse of his face before all he was seeing was the blue of Jazz's visor in his face and feel a pair of lips on his.

Prowl simply melted, his optics shuttered offline as all the tension in his body disintegrated like a voltage weapon to a toaster. It took him a minuet to realize that Jazz had released his hands, and those same hands were now in his face... Roaming around, almost as if they were drawing something...

Jazz pulled away, looking down at Prowl only to burst out laughing, Prowl gave a confused look, taking a glance around him trying to pinpoint what was making the saboteur laugh.

Finding nothing particularly funny, well to him, Prowl abruptly pushed Jazz from his chassis like a teen caught interfacing and stood. However, the smaller mech didn't get up,'simply sat cross leged on the ground, helm in his hands as he laughed.

"What's so funny?" Prowl asked maybe a bit to harshly, Jazz looked up, a nasal snort left him as he threw his helm back into his hands.

"Ya... Ya look like'a Native American."

"A Native American..." Prowl whispered to himself bewildered he looked down with a finger pressed lightly to his lips. Realization hit him like a full blown attack, his servos shot to his face where he felt along his cheeks.

There, now on his hands were small clumps of dry transfluid. Prowl growled to himself, once again wiping it off on his leg.

"Ya a warrior now Prowlie, ya got... Ya got tha' chiefs makeup!"

Was Jazz still drunk? Again, Prowl Wouldn't doubt it.

Optics narrowed, Prowl stepped foreword. He wanted to look threatening, but his posture quite obviously lacked it. Jazz quickly shut up though, and looked up at Prowl.

"Uh-oh." Was the small -logical- reply that came from Jazz. Quicker then Prowl had seen anyone stand up, Jazz was on his feet, running to the opposite side of the rec. room.

Like a feral dog stalking a cat, Prowl gave chase.

"Hide meh!" Jazz hollered at Blaster, jumping onto the stage and doing an un nessesairy side roll behind the booth then, The silver mech whispered up to the boom box in a small whiny voice.

"Don't leave me here with the angry officer." Blaster snorted, tossing his shoulder to the side to expose the quarter purple mech to Prowl, who was slowly making his way up the stairs staring at Jazz in a predatory fashion.

Jazz ducked behind Blaster again, grabbing onto the bigger mechs shoulders so he wouldn't be able to turn around or move him into the line of sight.

"Scared?" Blaster teased, a laugh to his voice as the orange and yellow frame stood still for the smaller mechs benefit, a hand still on the controls for the booth.

Jazz peaked over the mechs shoulder, noticing Prowl standing a little bit away, four lines of dried transfluid on his face, two on each cheek.

Their optics met. well, to be truthful, Prowls never left. Prowls optics weren't hard but maybe a bit playful mixed with amusement, the frown on his face was obviously forced. Jazz could see it but he was looking for it.

Jazz ducked his helm a bit then switched sides just to see if the mech was actually trying to look at him. When he peaked back over Blasters opposite shoulder, Prowl was still starting at him.

"Now he staring at me." Jazz whined again like a wrongly accused child. Prowl opened his mouth to speak, but whatever he was going to say never came.

It was impossibly quick, to fast, to unexpected. The time it took to actually take in the sound of a muffled seekers missile was to long. the Arks protective armor had already been penetrated, they had already been thrown back by the closeness of the explosion. Smoke filled the air as a rough breeze from outside drafted in. Jazz had landed on his back, dazed, the mech looked up from his spot.

"Prowl?"

A huge hole in the wall, yes. Decepticons storming in, yes. The rec. room springing into action and the alarms sounding, again, yes.

But no Prowl.

**TBC...**

**Review!**


	6. Chapter 6

_**Warnings: crazy Jazz. Violence.**_

_**Rating: M**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, but I own Radar.**_

He moved with a majesty that could only be achieved by royalty. Helm tilted in a way that invited anyone to approach him without demanding it. Delicate like a fully blossomed organic flower. Graceful in his actions as those of a temple dancer.

The heavenly white light of the sun spare did its job and brightened up his left half, armor shining in different spots standing out like little sparks. His visor twinkled, his smile long and true, each step he took looked perfectly planned and steady, with each swing of his arms that made him look childish.

Prowls helm cantered up to gaze upon the almost holy figure bathed in white light, the figure that was known as Jazz. Prowl found himself unable to vent, held still by millions of light partials that ricochet off Jazz and sprayed onto him like a sprinkler, this was pure beauty, the pure elegant nature of his lover before him.

"_Prowl!"_ Jazz's lips didn't move, the smile still remained as still as if it were a picture. Jazz was walking towards the prone Prowl, at least, that's what it looked like, but Prowl could tell the mech was walking in place.

His name spoken- Prowl hadn't heard. The tone was all but registered in his mind and the TIC didn't take In the fact that the voice did not belong to the mech he was looking upon. In some kind of trance, Prowl only stared at the spotless white armor of the other, unknowning that just a few feet away from his location a battle was raging on, presuming him dead.

"_Prowl_!" The voice rung through his helm leaving echoes in its wake. The noise seamed to jolt and rivet creating a sound Prowl could almost see. The light moved, separating like a curtain, but though all that Jazz's lips still refused to move as he spoke.

That wonderful smile Jazz always carried melted into a deep frown, his lips parted revealing the blackness of his throat. Right before Prowls optics the holy white light dulled to a dark black, yellow flashed in the background, sparks of electricity zapped off around him. Jazz's frame became darker, the light shifted to a light gray, the once spotless armor became dirtied and scarred. Energon lit up his transformation seams like a firework show. Prowl became worried.

"Jazz are you... Alright?" His voice sounded brittle to his own Audios, he couldn't imagine how bad it sounded to Jazz, but why was it like that? Prowl couldn't feel anything. He felt numb, his mind was blank except for the fact of a hurt Jazz before him, his Audios rang steadily, the name 'Prowl' repeating over and over until it faded into the small ringing white noise.

Still laying down, Prowl began accessing the situation as he watched the mech ever so slowly come to him. He couldn't move anything, no matter how hard he tried, a scarce thought crossed his mind that he was paralyzed, but if he were he wouldn't have been able to move his helm. But what of the rest of him? What happened?

"_Prowl! Slag it! Ratchet_!" Why was he calling for Ratchet? Well, that was a stupid question, just look at Jazz's frame! He must have been in some brawl in order to look so fragged up.

In the distance, almost like he was underwater, Prowl slowly began hearing the yells of those he would have regonized if not for the state he was in. A burst of unknown voices reached Prowls Audios, heavy thumps trampled the ground in some sort of stampede beside him, and then he was being lifted up.

Jazz's frame stopped moving all together, and ever so slowly it began to fade. It started with the tips of his pedes and the tops of his digits, the grey light consumed them like a starved Cyberwolf, it continued traveling up his arms and legs to his torso, then Jazz completely faded into a single beam of grey light. Leaving only a faded memory of Jazz's dulling visor.

"_Prowl, can you hear me?" _He could tell the voices now, but he couldn't see them. It was Ratchet. Prowl gave a gentle nod of his helm in the direction he thought Ratchet to be. It was horrifying, not being able to see. He could tell something was happening around him, giving the fact that he had been laying on the ground when he normally wouldn't be. Was it the high grade? Had it rendered him useless?

Prowl slowly started to feel the others' chassis, arms around him, carrying him off to only Primus knew where. It came on slowly but he began to feel hot, his metal becoming itchy in different places, and then, a small pinch of pain.

So small that Prowl wouldn't have noticed if not for the fact that he could hardly feel anything at all, it stood out like a gunshot to the silence. But the small pinch of pain was only just a weak tweak in his spark, and so it increased. Each beat of his spark began to feel like a punch to the helm, but it got worse. A million times worse, his entire body jerked then he became nothing but pricks and needles, flames and acid.

_Pain, pain, pain_! He shook, his venting increasing to an alarming hight, he could hear himself yelling but his voice was underwater, was he under water? Why was he under water?

Was he dying because of the Highgrade? Had he harmed Jazz somehow?

Another call for the medic sounded urgently in the distance. He felt Ratchet jerk at the call, then he was being laid back down. His back rested lightly against a wall.

All noise drowned out once again and Prowl was left in the silence that could have killed him all together. The less he moved the less his body flared up with pain. But every little movement, every involuntary twitch of his pede or bob of his helm only continued to unleash Unicrons torturous pain upon him.

He refused to move although the ground beneath him shook and vibrated with each tremor that wrecked the rec. room. He stayed completely still, slowing his venting to a low rate, taking in the silence.

Prowl moved his helm upward, it was like something was covering his optics, when he looked up the light grey darkness turned a pale shade of peach, but when he looked down the light retired back to the darkness.

Was he blind?

A sudden fear came over him causing him to swallow hard. Body going rigid, Prowl bit his lip hard enough to draw energon but through his panic he couldn't feel that pain at all. A though crossed his mind that lead Prowl to purposely move his arm upward, but to his surprise the pain he had once felt was nothing at all.

Laying his arm back down, Prowl twitched his leg. Bad idea, it seamed his leg was more wounded then the rest of him, but the pain that followed did its job in distracting the TIC from the thought of being blind, after all, that was the reason he kicked his leg in the first place.

What seamed like hours was only seconds, something flashed blue in his optics that he thought to be useless. A sharp jolt of excitement pulsed through Prowl, he stayed still, watching as the blue light flickered on and off in his right optic.

The only way he could possibly fix the problem was to either wait for Ratchet to return, or shut down his processor and reboot. Prowl, overcome by the steady pain inside him chose the latter, he welcomed the blackness of the reboot as If a long nights recharge. Slumping his body down, Prowl flipped a mental switch.

**Processor shutting down. **

**25%**

**50%**

**80%**

**90%**

**91% **

**95%**

**98%**

**99%**

**100%**

**Process complete. Shutting down.**

(#)

Time seamed to stop all together for Jazz when he finally managed to pull himself up off the rec. rooms floor, things had escalated so quickly the saboteur couldn't have seen it coming even if there was four second head start.

The Ark was coming apart, that much he could tell. And as he threw himself headlong into the battle he couldn't help but notice how destroyed the ship was._Not_ counting the gaping hole in the side, the entire rec. room looked like a battle zone, and in truth it was. Tables were broken and tossed, energon was everywhere, appendages littered the ground like a cerill killers basement. All in all, Jazz hadn't expected this.

The alarms were still going strong, but the lights were threatening to stay online. They flickered and sparked like a firework show, their baby light flakes dying out before they could even hit the tables. But the lights weren't bothering Jazz, neither was the disastrous scene, what was bothering Jazz was the fact that he could see Prowl a ways from him. Unmoving, laying in what could have been his own energon.

Target locked, Jazz threw himself towards his lover, his spark beat skipping and flipping uncontrollably.

"Prowl!" Jazz hollered, hoping to get the mechs attention but he only stared foreword, optics a bright white. Beside him, Hound attempted to cover Jazz, throwing his body into a Decepticon that was close to shooting him. Jazz didn't have time to yell a thank you. It would have to wait till later.

"Prowl!" Jazz shouted again, nearly stumbling over his own feet, he was so close. He would have gotten there if not for the fact that Smokescreen had beat him to it. Prowl said something, but Jazz was to far away to hear him. But by the look on Smokescreens face, whatever Prowl said shocked Smokescreen into gaping at the TOC for a full second, and then...

"Prowl! Slag it! Ratchet!" Smokescreen yelled towards where Ratchet was standing. Now more afraid then ever, Jazz ran as fast as he could, just when he was about to meet Ratchet at Prowls location, he was stopped by a mech throwing himself into Jazz.

He landed on his side with a painful crack, Jazz let no noise slip as he automatically threw his fists up and began punching whoever was atop him. With a kick between the legs and a strong grip on his attackers arms, Jazz managed to turn the tables against the mech, flipping them into opposite positions.

Too worried about Prowl Jazz just continued to punch the Decepticons faceplates until the red optics faded, kicking himself up, Jazz went to run towards Ratchet who was caring the TIC.

But again, a Decepticon intercepted him, a rather large one for the likes of Jazz. The Decepticon stood before him, towering over the smaller mech with a wicked look in his visor.

"Slag..." Jazz whispered. A crooked smile played on the warriors lips at what could have been interpreted as a complement.

"So... About tha' weather?" Jazz attempted, but failed. And he knew it was going to fail too. The brute made a choking snort sound heaving a large hammer up into the air.

"Great last words." The brute commented, swinging the hammer. Luckily for Jazz he was smaller, and in that sense smaller meant better against bigger enemies. And so he easily dodged the first swing by rolling foreword. Ducked pas the second swing. By now, Jazz was just running in circles around the large Decepticon trying to find a weak spot.

The brute made a move to swat at Jazz with his hammer, so in kind Jazz made a move to dodge it. What he didn't expect was for him to pull his hammer back and for a black foot to come swinging out.

The large appendage connected with Jazz harshly, sending him flying past the battle into a far wall. Grunting, the white saboteur lifted his helm up, just In time to dodge to the side and escape that hammer once again.

_How the frag did tha' fataft get here so fast?_

Before Jazz could even stand, strong greedy arms took ahold of his wrists, a pede found its way onto his back and forced him face first into the dusty ground.

"Tag teamed!" The brute laughed, standing in front of Jazz, pounding the hammer threateningly against his palm.

"Dat was'a goo'ne Breakdown, had'um runnin' foe 'is money, didn't'cha?" The brute grinned the affirmative, spinning around a lot quicker then a mech his size should have been able to, and slammed his hammer into the ground right beside Bluestreak and Hound, sending both flying in different directions.

Held helpless, Jazz forced his face from the ground to look off at the side, just in time to pinpoint Ratchets location, quickly noting Prowl was not with him. Further investigation lead him back a few feet, through the fire, flames and debris. His optics landed on Prowls frame, just in time to see his optics fade to black.

Pain struck his spark as Jazz thought the worse, his optic fizzed, nose curling, lips twitching, body shaking. Jazz's frame boiled with anger, with sadness, with surprise and shock.

"Now ya got any last words?" Breakdown teased, kneeling down to Jazz's height. Despite the horror, the pain, the death, Jazz smiled. It wasn't a kind smile, nor was it inviting. This smile was pure envy, a smile that showed complete loss of control.

Emotions boiling inside him, Jazz smoothly looked away from Prowl to Breakdown. "Yes. I do." Accent gone, showing just how serous, or crazy the mech was. Breakdown tilted his helm, as if asking the mech to continue.

"'Es so scared 'es shakin' mon." the heavily accented mech holding Jazz said profound enough that the saboteur could really hear the smirk on his lips. Breakdown shrugged, standing up, lifting his hammer.

"Give me two seconds." Jazz said, Breakdown paused, lowering his hammer, he then snorted, bringing back up.

**Are you sure you wish to activate all codes? Yes. No.**

**Yes.**

"One." Jazz counted, acting as if he was completely unaware of the brute about to slam his helm in. Breakdown seamed to ignore the smaller mech. "You done yet?" He asked impatiently, tapping his hammer on his shoulder.

"Two."

**Mate Protection code. Online.**

**Last stand programming. Activated.**

**Carrier protection program. Activated.**

**Gladiator programing: Activated.**

**Saboteur master code: Online.**

**Battle computer: online. **

**Logic centre: deactivated. **

**Battle music? Yes. No.**

**Yes.**

**Song?**

**20-30 Track 15.**

All the rage, the bombing of his codes all at once, being seconds away from death, Jazz's visor darkened to a deep, human blood red. That evil grin still stretching across his face Throughout all this...

Jazz _laughed_. "Let the bodies hit the floor."

_Let the bodies hit the floor!_

_Let the bodies hit the floor!_

_Let the bodies hit the flooooooor!_

**A/n: Sup guys? I decided to have the AN at the end this time. I am deprived of reviews, so no matter how old this post is, please post one! I still want to know if people like this story! I love all you who've reviewed, favorited and followed! Next chapter I'm gonna give a shout out to those who review. Thank you for being patent with me and my long time pauses between chapters.**

**Song: Bodies- drowning pool. **

**See you next update! Review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I'm updating... On a Monday! Okay, I know Mondays are rough but I still hope you all find the time to read this chapter!**

** Id like to say first a thank you to all the people who reviewed last chapter and wow, I wasn't expecting so many! That's what I like to see! As promised, I'm going to give shout outs to all you people who reviewed and a little side note on what you said, I'll do the same for next chapters reviews.**

** Love you guys! Keep'um coming and if anyone has an idea or something they would like to see in the next chapter review it, I'll try my best to put all your ideas together and create chapters based off of what you guys want.**

**Shout outs too**:

**Llama**- I _would love to tell you, but that's ruin the chapter. ;P _

**Kokua aulatric**- _you thought so too? 'S why I chose it._

**Tinyterror**.

(**Guest**)

**Angel heart**- _thank you for that! =D it makes me smile to know what parts you liked! And about the credit thing, use them at your own disposal. I made Last stand and Saboture master code up myself so if you ever want the details on them let me know, I'll make sure to tell ya!_

**ChocolatePrime**- _love the name BTW, makes me want chocolate. And yup, never mess with Jazz. Period. He may be awesome in every way, but when he's mad. Ya better run. _

**TransformersBeeFan**-

**HauntedQuarantineZone**- _what great last words for a sycotic mech, yeah?_

(**Guest Ly**) _the Prowl part took the most time to put together. Mostly because I wrote different segments and I had to add stuff to make it fit smoothly._

**Daklog73**- _Thank you!_

**Horzana**- Im _not sure, but whoever knows the song probably sang it in their heads the second they remembered it._

**LunarNightDreamer**- _well, I think we're safe here behind the screen, yeah? But the cons? XD they're stupid, they have no clue way they've got themselves into._

**BumbleBeeBitch**- _I've been waiting for your review for some reason i remembered your name since you've started reviewing. xD I guess you don't have to wait anymore. Cause here's the chapter._

**Grifen345**- _Me love them cliffhangers xD. And yes, ON WITH THE CHAPTER!_

**Warnings: violence, various character death. **

**Rating: T**

**Disclaimer: don't own transformers.**

**Now, what you've all probably been waitin' for. And I hope its good enough for you all. I present to you, PART SEVEN!**

He could feel the air shift, he could practically hear the sound of it breaking apart as Breakdown readied his hammer. Counting the impossibly fast milliseconds as they ticked by, Jazz lashed out with an assault that came on like lightning, he slammed his head back into the white mechs helm as hard as he could.

The Decepticon reeled back, clutching his nasal factor, Jazz took that as his chance to push himself up off the ground and take ahold of the mechs shoulders. Once again, Jazz managed to turn the tables, leaping onto his back and forcing the Decepticons face into the ground just in time for Breakdowns hammer to finish its corse, it came crashing down. Completely eradicating the others helm.

Breakdown was clearly shocked at this, he watched helplessly behind his weapon as the white mechs body jolted in a final show of life, then stilled.

Taking the tiny, millisecond pause, Jazz threw himself off the offlines body, taking the bulk of Breakdowns hammer and ramming the entire weapon upward as hard as he could.

Breakdown was unable to avoid the lethal blow, his pained scream dying out in favor of the rush of his energon spewing from the bottom of his chin, the top of his helm, and his mouth at the same time. The dulled hilt of the hammer spiking through his processor. Breakdowns fingers still clenched around his weapon.

Easily letting his grip slip from the weapon, Jazz stepped foreword avoiding Breakdowns fallen body by a half second. It came crashing to the ground with a shower of sparks that highlighted Jazz's red visor. If looks could kill, Jazz's insane grin would have.

In a move that was almost comical, the SIC crouched down, transforming one of his servos into a long, thin black blade, his optics quickly scanning the room around him like a hound.

_They killed Prowl._

_...No mercy._

Slowly Jazz lifted himself up from crouching, one shoulder slumped a little further then the other, Jazz progressed foreword. Smoke tunneling behind him, following him as he walked through it in tiny streams. The mech paid no mind to the screams of both friend and foe. To be honest, Jazz couldn't even tell friend from foe any longer, with his last stand code activated it was only him, against the world.

A spray of sparks gave way like a fountain behind him, the noise around him drastically slowed down by his own battle computer, therefore, it was easy to hear the almost silent eeeee eeee eee of a charging rocket launcher.

Spinning around, Jazz grabbed the closest thing to him. Unfortunately for the wounded drone, Jazz had picked him. He launched the drone as hard as he could at the incoming missile attaining his goal, the missile automatically targeted the incoming object, blowing the mech sky high, thin rivulets of the drones energon etched morbid patterns on Jazz's metals.

A little bit of energon found its place on the SIC's lips, Jazz's natrual reaction was to lick it off. His face wrinkled at the bitter salty taste but afterwords Jazz realized that he didn't mind the texture of the raw energon at all. And so, he lifted his hand and licked away a bit more of what could have been Breakdowns energon.

Finger still trapped inside his mouth like a energon goodie Jazz waited for the black alien fumes to subside, to uncover the launcher for him.

As predicted the black smoke cleared dragging thin strips across Jazz's armor. The culprit to the launcher stood up belligerently from behind an overturned table dragging a second mech along with him.

"Slag it TC! you missed him!" Jazz's visor was on their purple and blue frames, although he was looking strait at them, it looked more like he was looking through them then anything.

Ever so slowly Jazz lifted his blade in a challenging mannor, he drew small circles in the smoke above him causing little grey smoke rings to form at the tip of the blade and float upward. Jazz eyed the two seekers, his bleeding visor almost begging them to move.

As it turned out, Jazz didn't have to wait long, because Skywarp, the purple seeker had reached a hand out to grab the others shoulder. Jazz could tell they were afraid of the blank look in his visor. So Jazz growled at them, just for show, deep and mechanical, both bots flinched and stepped back.

"What are you two doing!" Came a loud, screeching voice from the distance. All three looked up to where the voice came from and It wasn't long until a body accompanied the voice and Starscream flew in, transforming a few feet away from Jazz and hovering in the air, forming a triangle with his trine.

"Attack him fools! Don't just stand there!" The two looked a bit reluctant then decided that it was three against one and the fight would be easy, Starscream finally cut his thrusters and fell effortlessly to the ground.

Jazz remained still. Watching as the three progressed, each of their steps in perfect union. As he watched his battle computer calculated the best way to take them all down.

His best bet was to go for the leader, which was Starscream. If he took their leader out the two would either run, or stay and fight. Jazz wanted the latter, he wanted them to fight. He wanted to kill, revenge.

Jazz's optics narrowed from behind his visor waiting for the first attack to form. Starscream took that spot, he lifted a hand to activate his null ray.

Starscream got no further, although the distance between Jazz and the others was more then a few feet away the SIC managed to bolt at the three.

He aimed for the sweet spot tight behind Starscreams audio, where good solid contact would guarantee an immediate crash.

Jazz lunged. Good solid contact.

Starscream lashed out desperately with his fist attempting to hinder Jazz from his plan but when Jazz's hand made contact, his fist turned into a hand reaching out hoping to grab something, anything. The SIC heard a crunch and could practically feel Starscream jolt. The contact made the mech lose his grip on his weapon: it fell from his digits.

Starscream crumpled to the floor like a jinga tower. Out for the count.

It was almost _too_ easy. Hopefully the others wouldn't be as quick as Starscream was. Because that, was just sad.

Jazz's optics didn't follow Starscreams body as it fell, but they remained trained on the two other seekers who had their own optics glued to their fallen leader. It looked like they couldn't believe how fast Starscream had went down.

Jazz expected their faces to morph into fear, he expected then to turn and fly away now that their head was gone. But instead, their faceplates morphed into complete hatred, making Jazz smile.

They would stay and fight.

Jazz took a step foreword, daring them to progress. As it turned out, that small step is all it took for the two seekers to snap. Both lunged foreword.

They needed a better plan. Jazz easily dropped to the floor and rolled to the side, escaping any wounds that may have been inflicted should he have stayed still. The saboteur popped back up onto his feet jetting both hands out. He flipped his empty hand palm up, then curled his fingers.

"Come 'an get it."

Skywarp headed Jazz's call unaware of the consequences, a blade already forming from his servo.

Abruptly the world was a slow motion movie. Each second seemed like a minuet, they lunged at one another as if they were creatures from a nightmare, as if the atmosphere had suddenly become thick as syrup.

Skywarp dipped and weaved right, he was about to reach the SIC to slash downward with his sword but Jazz parried the attack with his arm, the blade clashed against his metal constricting a shreik that sent sparks flying into the air.

Skywarp for his part was quick to come back with an uppercut slash at Jazz with his fist, attempting to catch the SIC off guard. But Jazz sidestepped to the right just enough that Skywarps servo passed a humans hairs length away from his face, the black metal skimming his audio horn.

Quickly, before Skywarp could respond with a follow-up, Jazz swiftly punched the mech in the lower stomach plaiting, momentarily stalling the seekers engine from the sere force of the blow. The purple jet leaned foreword unknowingly opening himself up for more attacks, Jazz obliged, putting a simple side kick into Skywarps stomach once again, he followed that with a quick rising uppercut.

Now laying on his back, Skywarp was helpless to Jazz's next range of attacks, the seeker looked up with unfocused optics just in time for Jazz to lunge forewords. Optics widening, Skywarp flattened himself against the ground, feet first, but instead of colliding with his adversary, Jazz opted to wrap his pedes around the seekers neck instead.

The maneuver caught Skywarp off guard. Jazz gave the seeker an apologetic shrug, mid air. As if to say 'sorry' for what was going to happen next.

Jazz used the momentum he gathered from his lunge to get creative, instead of piling his fists into his opponent, He jerked to the right and swung around the seeker, then, when he was directly behind his adversary Jazz curled his legs into the seekers from and angled his body towards the ground.

Skywarp struggled in the embrace desperately looking up to find Thundercracker to help him, Jazz stopped the seekers struggles by wrapping an arm around his midsection in what could have been interpreted as a lovers embrace, his blade coming up to press gingerly against the purple jets neck cables.

Skywarp stilled imedetly, hands curling at Jazz's arm, his optics went impossibly bright as his slow processor already came to a conclusion.

All it took was a harsh jerk of his primary arm, Skywarp didn't have time to avoid it. A line of crystal blue appeared on Skywarps neck, he leaned foreword optics offlining. Jazz let go of the offlined seeker, shoving the lifeless husk away from him, standing up and giving the purple frame a kick for good measure.

A single deafening roar from a blaster punctured Jazz's Audios like an exclamation point. Jazz turned around and Thundercrackers face came into the SIC'S view. And boy, he did not look happy.

The Blasters red bullet whizzed past Jazz's helm in a warning shot, as if the blue seeker was trying to scare him off, telling Jazz physically 'not to mess with him.'

The closeness of the bullet would have made anyone flinch, but Jazz didn't, he remained perfectly still even when the burning energon singed the edge of his helm.

Thundercracker looked like he wanted to say something, but his mouth wouldn't form any words, Jazz wanted him to be tougher then the others. He wanted a full, bloodlust deadly fight that of course, he would win.

This time when Thundercracker aimed his blaster Jazz was ready, lifting his sword and blocking Thundercrackers energon pellet, it crashed against his sword blowing clean through it. Jazz examined the smoking sword intently, spinning it around in the dull light to catch different glimpses of it. He dropped the usleless blade to the ground and readied his own chrome blaster.

The two stood face off style for what seamed like minuets but was only seconds, each one looking for an opening that could give them a quick take down. To Jazz's Thundercracker kept himself completely on guard, not letting a single part of him look open for an attack, he was almost mirroring Jazz's stance.

Both bots had a blaster and sword at the ready, ready to use which ever one came first. Tired of waiting, Jazz opened fire, sending a package of repeating blue energon bullets at the blue seeker who avoided each and every one.

Like a game, Jazz had lost his turn, and so he waited for Thundercracker to release his attacks. They were quick, but the saboteurs was quicker, he threw himself to the left, dodging one, kicked up on his feet, dodging another, found himself doing a one servo hand stand as he split his feet apart, missing another by mere inches.

Jazz did a backflip landing feet infront of the mech, it was now close quarters, Both mechs flung their Blasters to the side favoring their blades.

Their weapons clashed in a trademark X position, but Jazz had been through this before. The saboteur put all his strength into swiftly sliding Thundercrackers weapon from his, what he didn't expect, was for the blue seekers fist to come barricading out.

The blow was weak, but devistating none the less, Jazz lost balance and was forced to move eighty degrees to his left where, Thundercracker rammed out once again, his fists finishing the spin, Jazz's back to him.

The next hit drove both energon and air from his intakes. A spray of crystal blue dotted floor before him, Jazz looked down in surprise to see the tip of a blade poking out from his spark chamber, a killing blow.

So why, in the name of Primus, didn't he feel anything?

Thundercrackers weapon slowly slid out from his spark chamber, leaving Jazz to stand there in shock and watch as his energon rushed like a waterfall down his metals and puddle around his pedes.

But Jazz didn't fall to his knees. He didn't lean over from pain. Jazz did step back, though. And then, he slowly turned.

For his part Thundercracker looked mortally suprised that he had landed a killing blow on an Autobot, their second in command none the less. But after a minuet, his face turned into that of an afraid sparkling.

Jazz wasn't dead. In fact...

Jazz looked more alive then ever.

A bomb of growing anger erupted on Jazz's face at being stabbed, his smile morphed into an evil scowl, his k9's poking out from his lips.

Thundercracker realized then that he was...

"Slag..." As expected, Thundercracker turned to run, but all it took to stop the last trine mate was two servos on his shoulder plates. Jazz kicked out, his foot placing perfectly between the seekers doorwings.

Thundercracker tripped foreword, but didn't fall.

But Jazz wasn't done yet.

Kicking him once again Jazz managed to slide to the side and retrieve his broken sword he had abandoned, keeping his other blade in his hand. The blue winger went to turn around, still dazed from the double hit to his back, but he got no further, Jazz leaned down thrusting his weapons up.

Both his blades slid like a knife to butter into Thundercrackers spark chamber, Jazz continued to push upward, until the blue mechs pedes were off the ground.

Spiked by both Jazz's swords Thundercracker could do nothing but look down at where the metal connected to his own, energon already seeping from his mouth.

Jazz pulled out quickly, a smile forming once again as Thundercracker fell to his knees. Jazz lowered himself so he was crouching at the mechs height.

Jazz stared into the seekers optics as they roamed around the room slowly, taking in what the mech knew was his last sights. Jazz inched his way closer pulling both swords out forming a long X across the dying seekers neck.

"Nighty night." Jazz said sweetly, yanking both arms back, A black line formed at the seekers neck. His optics imedetly offlined, the mech fell foreword, his helm rolling off to the side.

"Won't see ya in tha mornin." Jazz stood up and looked over his work, he kicked away The blue seekers helm, transforming a servo back into a hand. He looked over both bodies, when his optics landed on Starscreams crashed body.

He knew it was a cheating move, taking a mech out while their basically in recharge, but at the moment Jazz couldn't have cared less. The SIC waltzed up to the crumpled frame, using the tip of his blade to scratch smiley faces into Starscreams metals.

"Ya won't be wakin' up either." He told the recharging mech, easily dipping his sword through the metal between Starscreams doorwings.

Once that was done Jazz once again tossed his broken energon covered blade, as well as the other in favor of snatching up his chrome blaster as well as Thundercrackers blue one.

"One be needin' this." He told the offlined frame, giving a dry snicker as he jerked his weapon at Thundercrackers empty husk, then firing an unneeded shot into his spark chamber.

"Nope nope nope!" Jazz sang, tossing his helm to the side to punctuate each word. To caught up in his little victory Jazz almost didn't notice the sniper shot that cut air right past his helm. The shot landed directly between a drones optics, the mech who'd been shot back stepped and clashed to the ground taking two of its brothers down with him.

Jazz choked on a laugh at the display, he didn't even look back at the sniper who clearly missed him, instead, his optics landing on a much more... Worthy opponent.

Megatron. That worthy opponent was Megatron. Jazz knew that, leader of the Decepticons. With his last stand programming online he couldn't remember who the mech was fighting against, but for some reason... Jazz wanted to go up against that blue and red 'bot too.

But first, he would have to get rid of the silver one first.

Bringing both Blasters up, Jazz slowly walked like he owned the place towards the two fighting Decepticons, they were in the middle of the battle, but the others seamed to leave them alone. Jazz knew why, they were both tough, deadly.

But Jazz could take them both.

The SIC almost congratulated the red and blue bot for landing a strict blow to Megatrons helm, sending the mech flying right towards him.

When Megatron landed he was quick to jump back up, to make a move at Optimus and regain his footing, he took a quick look around, but Jazz was quick, and to be honest quite unexpected. The silver mech jumped up latching his feet around Megatrons neck.

Megatron, caught off guard yelped at the sudden contact, Jazz heard his name called shortly but it went ignored for the best energon rush the little minibot had ever experienced.

"Ahhhh! Ridin' ya like a bull!" Jazz yelled out, laughing hestairically as he dug his digits into the warlords neck, forcing the mech to try and Pry Jazz off. But Jazz was sneaky, like a snake, he slithered his way around the arms, still managing to keep ahold of the Decepticons leader.

"Ya got a big head, but little arms, can't catch me!" Megatron swung his large cannon at Jazz, but the SIC easily ducked and avoided it.

"GET OFF ME!" Megatron screamed.

"Get off meh!" Jazz mimicked almost catching Megatrons tone perfectly. Oh, this was fun, why kill them when you can just frag with them?

"STARSCREAM!" He called for help, Jazz couldn't help but gloat at his kill.

"Who? The dead bot over there? Oh, he dead." That enraged the warlord to a new point, Too quick for Jazz to actually take in, Megatron had snatched Jazz's arm and prayed the SIC from his frame, slamming his body to the ground. Jazz moaned a bit in pain when his helm cracked against the metals.

Megatron took a look around him, and when his optics landed on Starscreams offlined form, his optics froze, his breath hitched. Megatrons helm snapped back to Jazz with disbelief, but Jazz was already gone, a quick search found that he had abandoned Megatron for...

Optimus prime.

Deciding the battle was now lost, Megatron transformed into his jet fighter, calling a retreat as he flew back through the hole Starscream had created.

(#)

Down on his knees, the field medic frantically balled up cables and wielded minor gashes on the frame of a fellow Autobot, all the while keeping a trained optic out on his leader who, was still locked in battle with the Decepticon warlord.

Slipping a pain chip into the Autobots arm, Ratchet once again dragged a groaning mech off to the side, away from the battle. Already standing up, the medic ran back into the line of fire searching for anymore wounded.

Ironhide and Inferno were at his sides, protecting the MO from any Decepticons who wanted to hinder his work their cannons and Blasters constantly going off.

Optimus had the upper hand now, although the attack was sudden, the Autobot leader had been one to be smart and not drink himself silly like most of the others, their progress was sluggish and stiff, the reason why they had so many wounded.

"Decepticons, RETREAT!" There it was, the signal, Ratchet didn't allow himself to relax but to tense up more at what was to come. The casualty count, he doubted there wasn't any. But, what led the Decepticons to retreat on a winning battle?

Looking up at the spot Optimus and Megatron had been fighting, he saw something, well, someone. Jazz had a blaster trained not at a Decepticon, but at Optimus himself.

"Whoa! Jazz!" Ironhide shouted, leaving the medics side, making his way towards the feral Autobot, Optimus had his hands up, backing away slowly.

Ironhide, Inferno and Ratchet came to their leaders side, the medic scanned the SIC, his processor stalling at the results that came back.

"Don' move!" The battered Autobot growled, stepping foreword to match the Autobot leaders back steps, keeping him in constant distance.

"Jazz..." Ratchet tried to reason, stepping foreword, but was soon forced to step back by a blaster shot aimed at his feet.

"AH SAID, DON' MOVE!" The entire room stilled as they obeyed the mech, nobody wanted to be on Jazz's bad side and with the Decepticons gone, He had became the centre of attention to almost everyone, except those who weren't functional. The saboteur was growling like a rabid dog defending his catch, his red visor never once leaving Optimus's optics. Something must have seemed funny to the SIC, because his face broke out in a deadly grin he was laughing, to himself, but still laughing.

In the background, First Aid as well as the trainee medic, Dinobot Swoop were accessing the damaged. Ratchet refused to move as he raised his servos in a white flag mannor.

"Jazz, were Autobots." Ratchet tried softy, Jazz only laughed harder, his laugh coming out crazed and did functional. Ratchet had been through many traumatic cases with Autobots who had somehow lost their way in a battle, having what the medic called a case of Deletion of central programming. Or OCP. Where a transformer fighting would take a blow to the helm hard enough to cause their core programming to glitch, but not sent offline, and for them to forget everything but being in danger.

Jazz was the last 'bot Ratchet expected to come up with this. Especially since Jazz had been through a lot worse. Although... could that be a stab wound to the spark chamber? Had he gone 'crazy?'

"Jazz, your hurt, let me help you." The SIC's laugh broke off, his face abruptly changed into hatred, Jazz snarled and jerked his helm, basically telling the medic that he didn't need help, Optimus looked back at the three, nervousness evident in his optics. The last thing Optimus would want was for a fellow Autobot to be injured by another comrade.

Clearly seeing that Ratchet knew what he was doing, Inferno and Ironhide slowly backed away from the group, and out of the line of fire should the mech suddenly snap.

"I need you to put the weapons down, Jazz." Ratchet told the SIC, he had to keep using the mechs name, it showed Jazz that Ratchet knew who he was and possibly, reminded the mech of who he was.

Ratchets optics locked on the bleeding faceplate, Jazz finally looked away from Optimus and to Ratchet, a look that sent shivers down his spinal cords.

"Where is 'e." Jazz demanded cooly, teeth clenched hard enough Ratchet could see the strain in his jaws. It took a minuet for the medic to figure out who 'he' was, when when he did, Ratchet slowly pulled his left shoulder back, revealing the offline Prowl behind him, back against the wall.

At seeing his mates state at a closer decimal, Jazz let loose a dark growl that got its point across to the others. _Don't. Touch. Prowl_.

Both Blasters still trained on both Ratchet and Optimus, Jazz slowly made his around the two, somehow keeping the others in his sights as he did so.

Ratchet made a mistake, he would admit later, momentarily forgetting about Jazz's state and moving to help the SIC with the downed door winger was a bad idea, because when the medic took a step to walk in stride with Jazz, the mech lashed out.

Jazz was as fast as a little cat, Ratchet would admit, it was just another reason why the white mech was head of black ops. The top of a chrome blaster filled the medics vision a millisecond before that same weapon connected against Ratchets face with a sound that would make the hardest flinch. Ratchet was flown to the left from the force of the blow, landing on his arm and disconnecting it from its spot.

Ratchets pained holler was drowned out by the sound of Ironhides voice.

"Jazz!" Ironhide threw himself foreword in defense, Jazz also lunged, like a car in a train collision The two collided, Ironhide obviously didn't take in the fact of Jazzs state, because he was pushed back and hit the ground hard, his helm bounced off the metal floor and was sent back at Jazz, who was on top of the weapon specialist and had his fist ready.

That same fist made contact with Ironhides jaw with enough force to break it and send the red 'bot offline immediately.

Jazz's fist reeled back in an upward tendency as if to make another blow, but before he could Inferno had moved foreword, snagging the SIC by the stomach plaiting and yanking him off the red Autobot.

Infernos fingers unknowingly dug deep into Jazz's stab wound, a nasty sling sound like two swords rubbing against one another was heard. Jazz yelped out in pain, his helm thrown back as his hands shot out to cover the wound, energon started to surge out once again, as if it was reopening.

At seeing this, the fire truck quickly threw his hands up into the air and took a step back. It seamed that was all Jazz needed to be snapped from his state. The saboteur fell back, fingers curling at the wound as he yelled through clenched teeth, his visor slowly dulling back to blue, then to bright white.

Ratchet was already up and at the mechs side, calling back to First Aid to helm him. Jazz began to fight the arms that tried to hold him still, trying to reach out to the wound as if his hands couldn't heal it quicker then the medic could.

"Hold him!" Ratchet growled, deciding it was best to sit on Jazz's legs as he leaned down, wielder already in his servo to attempt to stop the flood energon. Ratchet leaned to the side to spit out energon, quickly wiping some away from his lip where Jazz's blaster had split it open. Although he was injured, Jazz was his first priority.

"Help me get him to the mebay!" The medic said, already making his way down the hall. Inferno scooped up the shaking SIC and followed Ratchet own the hall, leaving the others to look after the destruction.

(#)

Slumped against the wall, the recharging Prowls finger twitched. His processor finally coming back online. One of his door wings shifted upward, scraping against the metal

Blue optics onlined slowly, each one attempting to fizz back out, a small groan, Prowl lifted his helm. The first thing he saw was Optimus, Kneeling before him his optics dull. Smokescreen came next, one of his wings were gone, his faceplate looked like it had taken a pretty hard hit from a photon blaster, his left optic was dark.

"Glad to see you back and functional." The door winger said, his arm outstretched to Prowl, who took the offered servo. Smokescreen took caution on helping the mech to his feet.

The scene before him couldn't help but remind the TIC of cybertron as they left it. The bodies left him speechless, the roof was gone, whatever wasn't blown to smithereens was laying on the ground, possibly burying wounded Autobots.

"What happened?" The tactician asked sullenly, a servo to his pounding head, using Smokescreens arm for support, said mech gingerly touched Prowls elbow and began leading him from the room.

"We were attacked, you were lucky enough to have been out for the whole thing, 'cons thought you were dead, didn't bother going after you." Prowl took a look back at the destruction, optics lingering on the battered and mauled bodies, searching for anyone he knew, but before he could worry himself, Prowls helm down casted in a show of respect for those he knew they lost.

"Casualties?" Prowl said tersely, hoarsely, making Smokescreen choke out a small disbelieving laugh. "Always strait to work, we don't know yet, but... We have a few..." Smokescreen bit his lip, optics dimming as his pace slowed, he looked on the verge of tears, he looked behind him, Prowl followed his optics until they landed on a single frame being held by Warpath.

It was hard to regonize the yellow paint, most of it was gone, but it was still easy to see who the desist Autobot was simply by the way Warpath was holding the little minibot.

"We lost Bumblebee." Smokescreen voice broke off, he tore his vision from the scout and back to the door, where he quickly pulled Prowl with him.

Deciding not to dwell on the loss of Smokescreens crush, Prowl took a chance.

"And Jazz?" The other door winger didn't look up, but kept walking, this somehow sent fear nipping at the edges of the TICS spark, causing him to stop and roughly grab his brothers arm.

"Jazz?" He asked again, his tone demanded an answer, but Smokescreen looked reluctant to answer, the gambler shrugged away Prowls touch and looked up into the mechs optics apologetically.

"Prowl... There's something... I gatta tell you... And I don't think your going to like it."

**Review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Warnings: stupidity, Wrench beatings, verbal and physical abuse, mood swings and other sweet stuff.**

**Rating: T**

**Disclaimer: don't own transformers, never will never have.**

Prowl, taken aback by the light look in the mechs optics paused in his walking, confused optics turned to look at Smokescreens face. "I'm not going to like it? Is Jazz hurt?"

"Yes, and yes, but hear me out." Smokescreen wagged his hands back and forth to his words, his wings twitching behind his back. Prowl thought on this, looking reluctant to find out just what happened with his crush, but he nodded nonetheless.

"Carry on."

"Okay well, Jazz Activated all his codes and-"

"I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you clearly." Prowl cut in, waving a hand.

"No, you heard me right. Jazz activated all his codes and he-"

"All of them?" The tactician barged In once again, his optics scrunched with concern. Activating all codes was a dangerous thing to do. Especially all at once.

Smokescreen mumbled something under his breath, he started walking once more, Prowl followed tentitevly behind him, a slight limp accompanied his trek, but Smokescreen was in much worse condition. so he wouldnt point it out.

"Yes." The gambler nodded fast, speeding up his words a bit so the other wouldn't cut him off once more.

"All of them, but he went-" Prowl coughed, holding a hand up for the other tactician to wait, Smokescreen groaned, his servo coming up to bat against his forehelm. After a second pause Prowl asked.

"How bad is he hurt Smokescreen?" The question came out slowly, but it wasn't something to be ignored, as the two walked Smokescreen tried to explain.

"He got stabbed in the spark chamber but he-" Smokescreen stopped himself knowing by the look on Prowls face that if he didn't cut himself off, Prowl would have. Not a millisecond after the words left his metallic lips the TIC stopped dead, his body going impossibly still. A single doorwing twitched, Smokescreen was afraid Prowl was going to crash.

"WHAT?" That one word was so loud it startled the gambler into jumping and actually giving off a small squeak, however, after he gained his composure, the white door winger growled, this was harder then he had expected it to be, it was frustrating. A little bubble of anger lit inside the tactician.

"You heard what I said!" Smokescreen yelled, fists balling at his sides. He had been through the pit today, he lost his crush, lost some of his friends, could be loosing another at this very second. All Prowl had gone through was a quick blast then a crash, it was nothing! The least he could do was let him finish his sentance!

"Is he okay? Where is he?" Prowl sounded afraid now, as if it were his own spark on the line and not another's, the TIC turned fast on Smokescreen, the mech could tell he was restraining himself from becoming violent. A sigh left the lower tactician, his servo coming up once again to scrub at his faceplate.

"Oh my Primus Prowl..." Was all he managed to say before the TIC seamed to explode.

"Smokescreen!" Prowl snapped, his hands jerking into the then whipping back to his sides. The entire ordeal set Smokescreen off. He would get the story across!

"He's in the fraggin' medbay! For Primus sake mech! Jazz activated all his codes and started owning the Decepticons but apparently he went all physco and started going after the Autobots~"

"He went after the Autobots?" Came Prowls voice, the TIC snorted out a nasal laugh causing Smokescreen to actually wonder if Prowl had also lost his mind. He had gone from worried, to angry, back to worried, then to disbelief within two minuets.

"Is this Jazz were talking about?" Prowl continued, starting up the walk once more, Smokescreen started a slow pace behind him.

"I am positive Jazz would never harm another Autobot, why are you telling me this?" As the medbay doors came closer, Smokescreen realized something; if Jazz was going crazy, trying to kill his own friends, then why would he allow the third In command to literally walk into a deadly situation? A small gasp left him as he realized he could possibly become the reason should Prowl get harmed by Jazz.

Smokescreen picked up his pace, pushing himself in front of Prowl, backing up until his doorwings skimmed the orange door leading to the medbay.

"what are you doing? Get out of my way I need to see him!"

"For frags sake shut up! Your as bad as Bluestreak!" Prowls defensive stance soon deflated as he processed those words, he looked down, then back up at Smokescreen.

"That's irrelevant." Was it just him, or was Prowl being extremely bipolar? Smokescreen scoffed, hands shooting out to press against the TICS chassis, being the only thing stopping the black and white mech from the medbay. Realizing what was going on, Prowl backed up, then tried to squeeze past the gambler, with no luck, Smokescreen simply slid back into his way, hands still outstretched.

"I don't think you want to go in there... Jazz, isn't in his right mind..."

"I'm going in there Smokescreen! I will not let him suffer the drawbacks alone, he's dying!" Prowl became feral, his chassis puffed as he tried to make himself look bigger, the TIC pressed foreword until his chassis was almost touching Smokescreens.

"PROWL! He's ATTACKING Autobots! He'll attack you!" The other growled, back stepping to gain his personal bubble back, Prowls helm cantered down in thought.

"No he won't, I know he won't." It sounded like he was trying to convince himself that he wouldn't. But Prowl didn't see what Jazz had done, he didn't know just how bad the SIC actually was at that moment. Smokescreen had to inform the mech, to make him see reason.

"Prowl~he attacked Optimus, he will at-"

"He did what?"

"ATTACKED OPTIMUS!" Doorwings jerking into the air, Prowls optics turned hard, Smokescreen could practically see the mech mull over the words. A second of tense silence hung around them, when finally, Prowl moved, his helm shot to the side, optics narrowed.

"That mech..."

"Yeah, now he's all crazy trying to kill Ratchet while he's working on him so, DON'T GO IN THERE." Once again Prowl had a major mood swing, seriously, this was probably why the tactician had kept his emotional center offline.

Prowl once again pushed himself into Smokescreens bubble, Their chestplaiting pressed together, With a deep growl that sent shivers shooting up Smokescreens Prowl said lowly.

"Jazz is my... Jazz will be my mate, and i know he would do the same for me, so if you think that for one second I won't go into that room then your as daft as an organic rodent! If he is dying I want to be there to help him! So stop trying to stop me and get out of my fragging way!"

It wasn't so much as the meaning to the words then the actual curse that left Prowls lips that shocked the door winger into stilling. Prowl had swore, Prowl never swore, even when he was dealing with the twins! To busy thinking on the drastic words, Smokescreen wasn't fast enough to avoid those angry servos as they clamped down onto his shoulders. Never did the gambler think Prowl, of all mechs would be the one to break an Autobot law. Prowl easily shoved the mech hard enough to the side that he tripped, landing on his aft.

Dazed from everything occurring, Smokescreen looked up just in time to watched those black and white doorwings disappear behind the medbay doors.

It was to much, everything. Smokescreen slowly lifted himself up from the floor, staring sadly at the doors. This wasn't his fault, if something happened it wasn't his fault. It wouldn't be his fault... Would it?

The accumulating anger that had been swelling side Prowl left in a puff when the TIC saw his lover. The Autobot was literally trying to fight the hands trying to help him, while at the same time, shaking and seizing with pain. Swoop was holding his arms tightly down against the berth, but even the dinobot struggled to hold the raging mech.

"Jazz..." The tactician breathed, Ratchet, who had been to busy trying to hold Jazz's legs and at the same time weild the saboteurs chassis shut. His helm snapped up at hearing the gasping word from Prowls lips, his optics hard.

"Prowl! Get out!" Prowl wanted to respond, to tell Ratchet that he wasn't going to leave, but the deadly snarl that left Jazz's lips had him distracted. The saboteur ripped his arm from Swoops grip, that same arm shot out to Ratchets transformed servo, desperate servos gripping at the medics metals, trying to rip the tool away from him, or rip Ratchets arm off. It could had been both.

Ratchet jerked back, narrowly avoiding the graping hand, Swoop was there and ready, taking ahold of the mechs loose arm and forcing it back against the berth. Prowl stood shocked and still as Jazzs started jerking his legs, trying to kick out.

"I'll kill all'a ya! Get off meh!" The crazed bot screamed ruggedly, arching his back into the air as sparks shot from his chests wound, he growled in pain. Prowl stepped foreword, finally finding his footing. But it seamed Ratchet was keeping tabs on him, because as soon as his pede lifted, Ratchet was yelling.

"Prowl! We can't- AGH!" Jazz's foot found a little wiggle room, it came barricading, the appendage slammed extremely hard right into Ratchets interface panel.

Although he was in pain, thinking he was getting killed, Jazz barked out a laugh as he yelled.

"Haha! Surprise Fragger!" Jazz doubled over, hands cupping his wounded pride. Once again the saboure managed to tare his arm from the struggling Dinobots grip, elbow reeling back, Jazz slammed his it into Swoops jaw, the dinobot flinched back, his grip loosening on Jazzs arms. Jazz took that as his chance.

But Ratchet had somehow quickly recovered from his previous blow, he jumped up onto the berth, sitting on the Autobots leg, needle in hand Ratchet blindly reached out, injecting its contents into Jazzs tubes.

The mechs body stilled at the invading substance, his visor started to flicker from blue to red, and then he fell back.

Jazz's arm flopped uselessly over the side of the berth. Terminal alarms on the medberth above him wailing. His helm rolled, flopping onto his cold derminal cheek, energon dripped from the crack on his lip where he had hit the floor.

Large swaths of fluorescent blue streaked across Jazz's armor, it was hard to tell which was his own blood and what wasn't.

Concern welling inside the TIC from what he had just witnessed, Prowl rushed to the berth.

"Ratchet, how can I help?" The medic shot the distressed bot a look, but realized that Prowl wasn't going to leave, he handed a tool off to Swoop, who was taking a small break, his vents were going at it, however, the break was short lived, Jazzs body started to convulse once more. Dropping the tool, Swoops hands shot out to hold the shaking mech. If Swoop wasn't there to hold Jazz, the mech would have already fallen from the berth.

"Can you hold him?" Prowl could tell the medic was trying to stay calm, it was to when a mech was dying before him. Ratchet had been through this before, even if it was hard to hear through the rugged screams of the convulsing mech, the medic would still get his point across.

Prowl grasped Jazz's legs, trying to pin him to the medberth. Ratchet leaned down into the SIC'S face, dropping close to his helm.

"Jazz! I need you to try and calm down!" A rabbid growl answered the medic. The vibrating of Jazz's metals buzzed through the medbay as his body shook with pain. Ratchet grabbed blindly behind the SIC for his kill switch, Jazz's seizures weren't stopping, and if the injections wouldn't calm him down, only his shut off switch would. The blow to his spark was slowly destroying him, if the mech didn't calm down soon he would be nothing but a pile of lifeless metals.

Prowl used one arm to steady the mechs legs while he reached out with the other, grabbing the wounded Autobots servo lacing his fingers through his own, Prowl refused to let go. Jazz jerked, trying to move away. There were so many hands on him, it was probably suffocating the mech.

Jazz's frame gave off a wracking shake that started from the tips of his pedes and riveted through his entire body, Prowl could practically see the pain pooling in Jazz's processor, sparks lit up around him, showing off different wounds and then...

Jazz screamed, it was louder then the others. Shrieking gutturally, Jazz's hand claimed down on Prowls with extreme force. Prowl kept from grunting at the strength used by his lover.

"Ratchet!" Prowl screamed over Jazz's own yells, biting his lip to keep from grunting at the strength of Jazzs grip. Prowl was to focused on watching the flickering of Jazzs visor to see Ratchet administer two more doses of relaxant.

The seizing, the shaking and screeching came to a hault. Jazz's body stilled, his vents whirling loudly trying to cool his frame off, he gave one final jerk, then his visor blinked off.

Prowls helm shot to the medic his face twisted with so many emotions. Ratchet was drying his hands with a towel, removing any energon that decided to linger inside his fingers seams. The medic didn't make optic contact with the mech, he simply shook his helm and knelt down to work more on his spark.

"He's lucky." Ratchet broke the tense silence, not looking up from his work. "The weapon missed his spark by inches." Ratchet then gave off a soft sigh, his voice changing into one Prowl had never heard before, it was so soft, too soft for the medic, it sounded like he was between whispering the words to himself and crying. "Your lucky Jazz."

Jazz's hand twitched around Prowls, for a second the TIC thought he would wake up once again and begin shaking, Prowl leaned over Jazzs face, his optics desperately searching for any sign of life, anything.

"Jazz?" His voice was so small, it sounded so... Young, squeezing his hand a little harder to encourage the mech, Prowl repeated his lovers name once more, this time a bit more urgently. There was no response. Giving off a sigh, he leaned back, never once letting go of Jazzs hand. He was just imagining things... Because Jazz was still offline.

"He's stable." Ratchet said to the TIC, knowing by the way he was acting that Prowl thought he was dead.

"I'm going to shut him down into Stasis to get these wounds fixed, I dont know when he will wake up." Taking the medics word, Prowl looked behind him, using his foot to pull the visitors chair up, he slowly sat himself down and leaned himself over the berth to stare at the sleeping mech.

"Then I will wait." Laying his helm down on the cold table, Prowls systems slowly shut down one by one, pulling him into a recharge.

Ratchet looked up from his work with sullen optics, They trailed over the twos interlocked fingers. Jazz's fingers were slack, unmoving, but Prowls were locked tight around Jazzs hand, holding on for dear life. A grip that would never be torn, a bond that was unbreakable, the lighting played off both mechs hand giving it an almost holy glow, Ratchet knew then that Prowl wouldn't leave unless he had work.

Sighing, the medic resumed his work.

(#)

Three AM. The hallways, abandoned, not a soul walked the corridors, 'bots slept peacefully, there helms wide awake with dreams. But bodies still as ever, their vents inhaling air and exhaling it softly. A place so quiet a pin dropping would sound as loud as a wailing alarm.

Among the many sleeping, there was one who not. Sitting up in the dim lighting of his room Prowl struggled to shut his processor down, fingers twiddling with themselves, his optics dull, almost lifeless.

It was a normal occurrence for this Autobot to have lack of sleep, but it had always been for work. Prowl had no trouble falling into recharge after a few days of good hard work. But the reason the black and white mech was awake wasn't because of the accumulating pile of datapads, nor was it the constant sound of a fan blowing in the distance.

The reason Prowl could not sleep was because of a memory, one that he knew would haunt him to his dying day. The image of his lover laying on a medical berth, energon stained and convulsing, screaming his vocalizer out like it was the only thing he could do.

Yes, those images, the bad ones. Every time Prowl offlined his optics it was all he saw. He tried to fight against it, only to curl in on himself more. Eventually he had given up on recharging. Nothing left to do but sit up and stare at the wall before him. His work was surprisingly uninteresting to him. Just thinking about picking up a data pad made the mechs tanks roll.

A shallow sigh left the tactician, he careened his helm to the side, hoping something on the other wall would hold his interest. No luck, only plain grey walls stared back at him. Walls that wanted to close in on him and drag him into a nightmare filled recharge, leaving him wishing he hadn't slept at all.

Jazz's screams were only echoes now, but just as powerful. He was to lazy to move, to tired to even try. He wanted to recharge, but he wanted Jazz more. Never had he ever thought anything could be so difficult.

The mech pulled the cotton blanket up to his waist, his thumbs gently rubbing against the fabric. His thoughts continued to float back to that silver frame. It was hard, he tried thinking about anything else but every single time his mind always seamed to make its way back to Jazz. is he awake? Is he okay? How is he? Could he be screaming for help at this very second?

A million and more questions assaulted Prowl ripping his recharge even further away from him until the thought of sleeping became foolish all on its own. He had to do something, anything to distract his mind long enough that he could at least crash into a recharge.

Yes. It had come to that. Prowl wasn't only unable to sleep, but he was afraid to; afraid of the dreams that awaited him, the lifelike senerios that would cause him to wake with a start.

Sloppy aching legs slid against the smooth cold metal of the berth as Prowl forced his legs over the side, servos coming to grip at the edge through the blanket. His thumbs were once again at work, withering away the soft white cotton with nerves, releasing his stress into the tiny particles.

His feet gingerly touched the floor, aft scraping against the cold metal as he lifted himself up. If he wasn't going to recharge he would have to do something else. Six hours earlier Prowl had paid Ratchet a visit, the TIC didn't know if the medic was awake now, but he had to see him, see Jazz, even to just get the smallest bit of peace.

Walking was hard. Everything was hard. A black servo came up to scrub at his drooped face, lingering over his optics as his pedes made the trek to the medbay without informing his processor.

He was a zombie; doorwings dropped so low behind his back if they went any lower they would skim the rim of his thigh. He didn't look well, in fact, he looked sickly, drawn out, aged. The bright lights of the hallway assaulted his optics, slow arms came to protect them from the sting.

The orange door came into view and Prowl found himself dreading what laid inside. Jazz could be awake, he could be asleep, could be trying to kill someone. Who knew? Jazz was unpredictable, even more so since his little code slip. Although all his codes were now offline, activating all the protocols at the same time wasn't something one would do and get out of it unsacaved.

A slow hand came up to press against the doors that the TIC forgot slid open automatically. He felt like a fool afterwords, but the thought quickly escaped his mind when he was left standing awkwardly before a well alive group.

Ratchet was up, moving back and forth between Jazz and Bluestreaks berth. Mumbling uncensored curses as he went.

Bluestreak was also up, which was a good sight to see. The sniper had been put in medical stasis after a one-on-many match, the grey bot was wide awake, yabbering on and on to Ratchet about things Prowl couldn't even process at that time.

The curtain to Jazz's berth was closed, but Prowl was still able to hear the mumbles of the hidden 'bot inside. Quiet complaints about random things, in which Ratchet groaned out replies to.

None of them had noticed the tired bot yet. So Prowl decided to let himself in. Although he was tired, knowing Jazz was awake had brought his spark up, causing his processor to become less sluggish.

The TIC made his way into the room it was then when his body was fully inside the room when someone finally noticed him.

"Hey Prowl! What are you doing up? Please don't tell me your working! What are you doing in the medbay?" Prowl sighed, not wanting to speak so much to answer all the young bots questions, as it turned out, Prowl didn't have to.

"Are you kidding me? Another one? Prowl, you better have a good reason to be here right now, I should be recharging, but nooo! Bluestreak here chose this time to wake up from medical stasis, not up five minuets and his mouth is already going!" Well, maybe answering Bluestreak would be the better option, Prowl opened his mouth to respond, but a small, innocent voice cut him off immediately.

"Is tha' Prowler?" Never had he though he would be so happy to hear that nickname. Prowl wanted to rush over to his potential mate, he wanted to ask the mech a million questions, but the closed curtain usually meant 'privacy' or 'stay away' who knew what could be behind that blue silk?

"Yeah Jazz! Its Prowl! Something wrong with your vocalizer or something?" Sighing, Prowl looked over to the young bot, taken aback by the look of pure innocence and happiness in his optics, how could the little guy do it? Be so happy when he had just woken from almost offlining?

"No, Bluestreak, my vocalizer is fine." Although, when he spoke he didn't sound fine. Once again he could have been referred to as 'sickly' Ratchet stopped his tired pacing to look upon the sloppy standing tactician.

"Did you want something? Or did you come here to stand around and stare at me like a fraggin' creep?"

"I came to see Jazz... I just didn't... expect to see you all up." Prowl answered, his voice slow. Ratchet motioned towards Jazz's berth, as Prowl passed the medic handed him a cube of energon that seamed to come out of no where.

"Ya, were havin' a party in 'ere." Was Jazz's reply, a sharp dry laugh proceeded his comment. Prowl looked down at the cube then set it off to the side, he didn't need energon at the moment. He needed Jazz.

"Yeah, he's awake, if you haven't noticed. And he won't shut up, closing the curtain did absolutely nothing." Ratchet grumbled, throwing his hands into the air as if trying to prove his point.

Prowl was a little bit more awake now, his servos came up to slowly move the curtain concealing Jazz's frame.

"Mornin' beautiful." Prowl couldn't help the smile that pulled on his lips at those soft words. The tactician slipped his way through the blue silk, coming up to stand before the bot he had just come to love. His frame looked fresh off the assembly line, except for the large scar that bulged from his chassis.

"Good morning Jazz. It is good to finally see you awake." Jazz smiled, reaching out to take Prowls hand, said mech grasped the SIC'S fingers with a small seance of clear disparity, Prowl used his other hand to pull forth a visitors chair, a chair he had used so many times during the last few weeks.

"'S good ta be awake, rechargins' so borin'" Prowl laughed softly at that. If only. If recharge was boring Prowl would have no problem attaining it, since he was dubbed a boring mech, anything unpleasing would most likely be easy for Prowl to accomplish.

Prowl found himself leaning down, his hand slowly moving from Jazz's. It was heaven seeing Jazz up and well once again, the last week had been nothing but pain for the TIC, he couldn't focus on work, couldn't recharge. Every single thought on his mind always traveling back to Jazz. Now that the mech was okay, and within touching distance, Prowl satisfied that urge, cupping Jazz's cheeks, pulling him closer.

Although he had been so afraid, the case of Jazz's injuries wouldn't stop the TIC from reprimanding the saboteur for what he had done. Now seamed like a perfect time, since the 'bot was well awake. And so, that in mind, Prowl made a move to touch Jazzs visor, one hand lifting only to...

_WACK!_

That one fast movement woke Prowl right up and was the fuel to his next words.

"That was for activating all your codes." It was completely unexpected, so much so that Jazz looked utterly at loss for what to do, his face twisted into an mix of being upset at the hit and amused by it.

Jazz went to defend himself "Ah had t-"

_WACK!_

_"That_ was for allowing yourself to get such a fatal wound." Prowl wouldn't be stopped by a an excuse, no matter how true it may have been. Jazz swallowed, leaning away, however Prowl had other ideas, the TIC simply followed Jazz's movements.

_WACK!_

"That was for disobeying a medical order." Hands lifted up in defense, but still held captive by the TIC, Jazz sighed, openly turning his helm to give his mate a better smacking point. In the distance Prowl could hear the snickers of both Bluestreak and Ratchet, it made him smile just a bit bigger.

"Ah see where this is goin'" Jazz admitted sadly, his optics squinted readying himself for the next hit.

"Wrench?" Ratchet offered in a teasing tone, the medic stood before the opened curtain, a hand placed out, atop the hand laid one of Ratchets most famous weapons. With a grin, Prowl accepted it with a simple 'thank you.'

"Wha! Why would ya throw me under the bus like th-"

_PING!_

_"_That was for hitting your medical officer."

"Prow-!"

_PING!_

"That was for aiming a weapon at your leader." Jazz swallowed again, his hands thrown up over his helm, body almost curled in a ball. However, Prowl grabbed one of Jazz's servos and pried it from his helm. "Oh sla-"

_PING. _

"That was for attacking an Autobot."

"OKAY!" Jazz jerked his arm from Prowls grasp and threw his hands up, he flinched away from his mate now leaning almost completely off the opposite side of the berth. His arm slowly made its way outward, as if reaching out to Prowl. The other came to rest before his optics like blocking Prowl from his view would make the mech go away.

They stayed like that for a few seconds, the beepers of other patients going off being the only sound. Prowls stance gradually deflated, tilting his helm, the TIC looked over at the wall in front of him with fake curiosity.

"What is that?" Prowl asked. Jazz turned, following His mates line of sight.

"What's wh-"

_PING!_

"Hey! What the frack! You! I ain't done nothin' else!"

"I know." Prowl answered with a smug smile, standing up, moving the chair with the backs of his knees. although his mate looked more intimidating, Jazz cautiously moved back to his original position.

"Then why'd ya do it?" Jazz said slowly, eyeing the wrench like it was an object of mass distraction. And in his case, it was.

"Because." Prowl dipped his helm, twitching his doorwings, then faked another hit, but stopped a well away from Jazz's helm. The mech flinched hard. Throwing his hands higher up.

"It's funny to watch you do that." Jazz groaned, somehow managing to snatch the wrench from Prowl. Ratchet, who had been standing there the whole ordeal, stuck his hand out as if he wanted it back, but Jazz had other ideas, he swiftly pulled the object back and sat on it.

"Wha' makes ya think imma give it ta ya? Ya gonna hit me more'n' Prowl has." Ratchet snorted, snapping his fingers at Jazz because the mech was correct in his assumption.

"I still have a hand you know." Prowl pointed out, lifting his hand in the lighting and turning it over, inspecting it.

"_NO_! Ah'm sorry! Please don' smack meh Prowler!" Prowls smile grew bigger as he slowly leaned over the bed ridden SIC. Jazz pushed his hands onto Prowls chest, attempting to shove him away, he turned to Ratchet, his face twisted with a look of complete horror.

"Ratchet! He's abusin' meh! Ratchet! ABUSE! ABU-" he was cut off by a harsh unexpected, and long overdue kiss. A kiss that lingered for a few seconds, even after Prowl pulled away.

"Never mind." Jazz drawled dreamily, grabbing Prowls face and pulling him back down. "Ah like this abuse, this'a love hate relationship?"

"Shut up." Prowl responded, grazing his lips against Jazz's, said mechs lips curled into a smug smile as he replied deeply. "Gladly."

Ratchet made an immature gagging sound in the background as the two kissed. However, the lovely lip on lip action was short lived.

_PING!_

"YA GATTA BE KIDDIN' ME! Where tha frag did'ja get tha'?" Prowl grinned, leaning back, twirling the wrench in his servo like a professional. He laid it down beside the SIC who pushed the object away from Prowl towards the other side of the berth.

"While we were kissing, Ratchet handed it to me, and then, I smacked you with it." Jazz crossed his arms and looked away from his lover, a fake scowl on his face.

"It was like'a two second kiss, an' how tha frag did Ratchet get tha' wrench." The medic snorted, moving closer to Jazz with a look that dared the mech to continue with his attitude.

"I have more then one, you know." It was Jazz's turn to snort, he slowly moved his arms from his chassis and rested them awkwardly on his lap. He wiggled a bit, checking to see if the one wrench was still there. It was.

"Wha' ah wanna know." Jazz started, dipping a finger at the medic. "Is how ya come up with all these large aft wrenches. Ah doubt tha' humans take tha' time ta make ya sixty a'um." Jazz pointed at the third wrench that had made its appearance in Ratchets servo, swinging his helm sassily to the left, Jazz caught a glimpse of Prowl and smiled deviously, but Prowl only sighed. His hand coming up to massage his nasal ridge. 'too early for this.' Written on his faceplate like words to a page.

"The benifits of having an inventor as your mate." Ratchet chimed in, rocking his pointer finger back and forth in the air in a matter of fact manner.

"Ya, Ah bet ya sucked 'is face pretty hard ta get him ta make ya sixty wrenches." Ratchets finger immediately deflated. He looked at Jazz with a one optics larger then the other look, it took him a second to think of a response and when he did his finger erected once again and he pointed it strait at the stubborned bot.

"I never said he made me sixty."

"Ya didn' deny tha ya suck 'is face tho'" Jazz replied quickly, smugly. Ratchet paused, thumbing his chin before he sighed in defeat. His head bobbing to the side in a way one could practically hear him saying. 'Fine, fine, you got me there.' In his mind.

Jazz lit up with victory, he turned to Prowl, ready to gloat to him, however, Prowl looked as if he was trying to look anywhere but at the SIC.

"What me and my mate do in our spare time is none of your buisness." Ratchet responded after a second pause, Jazz turned back to the medic, biting the inside of his cheek, nodding slowly, lips pursed. "So ya sucked 'is face." Jazz confirmed.

"Its Possible." Ratchet shrugged, turning around to set yet another wrench onto his desk. Ratchet added in minutely "You suck Prowls face, don't you?"

Jazz ignored that question although he didn't deny it, He chose a different response, snapping his fingers at the medic to get him to turn around, and when he did Jazz said childishly.

"Ah bet ya sucked sommem else to." Ratchets helm dropped to the side with a look that that basically said he was completely done with the conversation, he backed away from their little room, closing the blue curtain.

"Jazz!" Prowl scolded, Jazz laughed freely, waving a hand at Prowl, basically telling him to shush.

"Well, they suck face, right? Wha's tha' next step? Secon' base, man! Ya know what ah'm sayin? You ain't even wanna know what's on third base then if ya don' like whas' on sencon'" Prowl sighed once again, his fingers seeming to dig deeper into his nasal ridge.

"Base?" Prowl cried out. "When did bases come into this conversation? Actually, how did we go from wrenches to 'sucking face'?" Jazz was silent for a second, then a small bubbly laugh escaped him. That caused Prowl to growl in irritation. What was so funny about that?

"Ya say 'sucking' funny." Prowl reeled back as if shot, his face distorted into a look that looked completely odd and unnatural.

"I do not." He defended, Ratchet decided then to come back to the conversation, passing the two as he made his way towards Bluestreak once again.

"It did sound weird, just saying."

"Now ya on mah side!" Jazz groaned in, throwing his servos into the air. Ratchet came back into their line of view, pulling their curtain back and peeking his helm in.

"Prowl, say 'sucking'" Ratchet demanded distractedly.

"This is irrelevant, and extremely immature you two." The tactician said in all seriousness. Taking the time to give each 'bot a warning glance. So what if he said it weirdly?

"Ya Gatta say it tho'" Jazz added in after Prowl had finished his armature gawking, taking Prowls hand, the TIC looked like he wanted to pull away but apparently couldn't find the spark to do it. Jazz looked up into those blue optics, visor shining in a begging way. Oh great, he was giving Prowl the puppy dog look.

"'Cause Ratchet tol'ja ta, an' ya can't disobey ah medical officer, ain't that right Ratch?" Ratchet growled at the nickname but nodded none the less. His face poking in through the curtain, nothing else was visible.

There was a minuet of silence as Prowl thought this over. It was true, he couldn't disobey a medical officer, and for a second Prowl was afraid Jazz would yank out that wrench and hit him upside the helm with it if he were to disagree.

"Fine." He said, rolling his glossia inside his mouth for another second.

"Sucking." The TIC said smally, the two were quiet for a minuet.

"Ah didn' hear ya." Jazz mumbled more to himself, then added with a naughty smile. "Say it again'"

"Jazz.."

Ratchet nodded to Jazz. "He's right, you were kind of quiet."

"You've got to be kidding me, are we seriously still on this subject?" Prowl cried in hopelessly, trying to get them off the subject. But it seamed the more he tried to pry them away from it, the harder they tried to stay in it.

"Your acting a Sparkling, even you Ratchet, and your like, old." Prowl's mouth snapped shut, his optics widened at what he had just said. he couldn't believe he had just said that, Jazz smiled.

"Ya can blame meh for tha' one Ratch, he's startin' ta act like me." Jazz grinned up at Prowl who tore his servo from Jazz's grasp, the SIC whined a bit at the loss of contact, bottom lip quivering in a fake pout. Prowl looked away to avoid caving in. If they were going to sit there and make fun of him, Jazz wouldn't get his contact.

"Still have to say it." Ratchet said before peeking his helm out from the curtain to look over to someone, he mumbled a reply to that mech, he then pushed the fabric back taking away their privacy.

"Seriously?" Prowl drawled longly, proving Jazzs point once again. Prowl was puffing his chassis out, helm tilted towards the celing with his hands dangling behind his back. A stance that screamed a sparkling who was being made to do something.

"Stop whining and say it. Loud and clear." The medic demanded with a small smile. The smile was aimed more towards Prowls action then the word, the mech must have been really tired to do something like that.

"Ya Prowler, Stop whinin'" Jazz drawled with a huge slag eating grin. He said this in such a way a child would when tattling.

"I don't whine." Prowl said with a pout. His optics glaring daggers at Jazz, then at Ratchet.

"Is tha' a whine ah hear?" Jazz snickered, putting a hand to his audio and leaning in towards the TIC.

"Its not." The tatican replied dryly, in which Jazzs response was. "Stop stallin' an' say it." Realizing that he was actually stalling, the tatican sighed once more, the puff of air coming out long and tuning into a growl, he turned towards Jazz, hoping the one word would please the mech into dropping it.

"Sucking" another moment of silence where Prowl mimicked the word in his mind. It sounded fine, normal, so what was the big deal? Everyone talked differently.

Ratchet looked up from the crack he had been staring at, his face scrunched in deep thought, he then turned to the bedridden 'bot.

"Your right Jazz, it does sound weird when he says it." Jazz threw his hands up, throwing his helm back.

"Ah noe' right!"

Prowl just stared at the mech, long and hard, his body was slowly calming down, starting to feel a bit tired again, although he didn't voice it, he could tell the others knew how exhausted and stressed he had been. The conversation did its possible job in making him relax a bit.

Ratchet left the two in their silence, Jazz was staring about as hard at Prowl as the TIC was staring at him, it was like a staring contest, both trying to read the others processor. Jazz broke the silence.

"Sucking." He said lowly, more to himself then anything, he was testing the word. "Does it sound weird when ah say it?" Prowl let his helm fall right down so his chin touched his neck.

"Oh my Primus." He whispered to himself, however, Jazz wouldn't be ignored. "Does it?"

"Can I just leave now?" Prowl asked hopefully, turning to leave, it seamed Jazz didn't like that idea, because he threw himself out at the TIC, hands catching the others doorwings causing Prowl to yelp out. It looked like Jazz didn't really care about the small pain he caused his lover, because the mech yanked Prowl back by his doorwings, causing the mech to fall back onto Jazzs lap.

"NOOO. Don't leave meh here with Ratchet! 'Es so boring and weird!"

"Excuse me?" Came the medics voice from off in the distance, Prowl grumbled, trying to maintain a little bit of his ego by setting his servos on the side of the berth and pulling himself up, Jazz had other ideas, grabbing his lovers shoulders and yanking him down, flush against his chest.

"Don't do it! Don't ya do it Prowler!" Jazz hugged Prowl against him like the world depended on it, he gave little fake sobs and cries, as if he were panicking.

"Immature. So immature." Prowl mumbled, moving to get comphy, if Jazz wouldn't let him get up, he might as well make himself at home.

Jazz laid flat on the medical berth, patting his arm, Prowl obeyed, gingerly setting his helm on the mechs arm, Prowl curled into the mech, looking up at him. Jazz sensed his gaze, taking his optics off the scar on his chassis to look at Prowl, his smile slowly came back.

"Ya like it when ah'm immature tho'" Prowl said nothing, nothing needed to be said. It was kind of true that Prowl did like the way Jazz acted sometimes. He was comic relief for their situation, the happy one, the one who could make anyone smile no matter the circumstances.

As things calmed down, Prowl started to truly inspect the others frame, he needed a repaint, that was for sure, other then that like he had said before, Jazz looked brand new.

Before he knew what he was doing Prowls unoccupied servo came out to gently touch his scar, metal rising and falling in time with the bumps.

"Does it hurt?" Prowl had to ask, he had been rough housing with the mech for the past few minuets, he hoped he hadn't hurt him.

"Eh," Jazz squeaked out, his own black servo coming out to trace Prowls previous steps.

"Sometimes, only when Ah think 'bout it or wiggle around." Prowl nodded, looking up at the white mech.

"Don't wiggle around then." Jazz grinned, dipping his helm so he could see Prowls entire face, his glossia came out to lick his lips. "Ya make me all wiggly tho'" he said lowly, his voice crooned in a way that made Prowl shiver. "I do?" Said mech asked, optic ridge cocked just a little. Jazz nodded in affirmative, 'mhm' leaving his closed lips.

The two stayed like that, both lost in their own minds wondering what would happen next, Jazz lifted a hand, spreading his fingers and Prowl, knowing what the mech wanted lifted his own, like so many times before their fingers interlocked, black and white.

They weren't looking at one another, simply taking in the silence, Prowl was looking at the far end of the closed curtain while Jazzs gaze was locked up at the celling, his lips moved softly, Prowl thought the mech was talking to himself until he tuned his Audios just a bit, listening to the almost silent 'one, two, there's of the other as he counted the lines within the orange metal

"Hey Prowler?" Moving his helm, Prowl winced at the sounds of scraping metal that broke the silence, Jazz paid no mind to it, his visor moved from the celling to Prowls optics, searching for a hidden answer within.

"Can ya say it again?" Jazz asked in a whisper, making sure the others wouldn't hear him. Prowl sighed, his optics narrowing at his visor.

"Really Jazz?"

Jazz nodde. "Jus' one more time, an' ah wont ask again." Thinking it through, Prowl caved in, he wanted to make Jazz happy, and after all that had happened to him, if one word was the right thing to say, then so be it.

"Sucking." Once again the saboteur was silent, mulling through the word, his optics were dim, plastered to his legs.

"Shuuking, that's what it sounds like when ya say it, shuucking, say the 'U' but don't put to much 'U' into it, know what I'm sayin'?"

Prowl turned himself around so his back was perfectly spooned to Jazzs side. "Hey Jazz?" He asked, his voice cracking at the end. He was so tired...

"Yeah babe?"

"Shut up."

"Okay."

**A/N: Ello guys in dropping this thingie at the end this time. I'm sorry for the begning if it seamed slow or just not well planned out, its been a long week and I think I'm getting a bit sick.**

**But anyway, what did you guys think? As always I love to see your reactions, it keeps me interested in the story well enough to continue on.**

**Well, its time for me to get my homework done ( :( ) so ill see you all next week and/or whenever I finish the next chaper, have a good night and remember: review!**

**Shout outs:(to tired to do commentstonight)**

**-GeeGee.**

**-KkCliffy**

**-Grifen345**

**-Autobot Chromia.**

**-Bumblebeebitch.**

**-TransformersBeefan.**

**Thank you guys for reviewing! Your all amazing! :) goodnight!**


	9. Chapter 9

(POS2) Part Nine.

A/N: Holy crap, its been like... Three weeks, I got extremely busy, and after I got busy I just kind of lost my muse, but hopefully I'm back now. After this chapter in going to take on a more of Episode approach. Sorry again for the wait, hope ya'll still read!

Oh and as Bossbot97 has mentioned, I have been mixing up the roles of TIC and SIC. From now on Prowl will be known as the SIC and Jazz the TIC, I don't know WHY exactly I switched them up and I realized i did around the third chapter, but I thought it would be confusing if I just switched up the titles halfway. But thank you for pointing that out! And sorry for the confusion!

BumbleBeeBitch- yeah, I tried to make it funny :) and I know, it was rough, x.x the smokescreen part was kinda bad on my part, and I ain't taking no offense!

Lamb Terror Lamp.

Autonomy Chromia- It was sort of a bit of making fun of him in a joking way, more or less to lighten the mood of the past few weeks and what happened. I tried saying 'Shucking Face' and I always say 'Shucking Fachh' so maybe he has a speech problem? Its all up to you!

Kkcliffy- yeah, poor Prowl needs his sleep :P

Igeegeei- haha thank you! I tried, just to relieve some stress and show that yeah, Prowl loves Jazz, but he still needed to be punished for his actions!

Dawn Racer- thank you,:) its good to know that my stories are interesting and make people want to keep reading.

Thanks for the reviews guys! And I Want to do a chapter for questions to ask the characters, ANY characters in the story, you have something you want to ask them? Leave a question in your review! Taking questions until um, a week after this is posted. So drop a question in the reviews or PM me. (You can ask more then one)

Well here you go guys, enjoy!

Warnings: none, really.

Rating: T

Declaimer- I do not own Transformers or any of the characters.

Part Nine.

Clean up. Yes, clean up time. The rec. room was just a pure embarrassment to be in, it was going to be a long difficult process, between the bodies and the roof, the whole thing would take them more then a week, although it had already been a week since the battle, that first week was dedicated to recharging and recovering, now... Now it was time for the clean up. And it wouldn't be an easy process... The place was disgusting. Literally, at least to Prowl it was.

Actually finding the floor was their first priority, Prowl couldn't tell how many times he had taken a step and actually sunk down into nothingness to his knee struts like a Amazon mud pit, and he couldn't count the number of times something warm or cold had touched him while his pede was trapped in the debris. On more then one occasion something wet had actually smeared against his metals, in which, Prowl kept repeating in his processor. 'Its just water, just water.'

The mech knew some of it was energon, from whom? Prowl didn't really want to know, The death count was a total of twenty six Decepticon drones, seven actual Decepticons and five Autobots. It could have been from anyone.

Those Autobots were Bumblebee, Huffer, Gears, Mirage and Drift. Their bodies were transferred to the medical bay, on their way to be cleaned and ready for a burial.

Although there was death, there was still a little happiness, very little, but it was there. Jazz and Bluestreaks survival lightened had the mood. After all, no one wanted anymore deaths added onto what had already been done. Optimus, who had been very close to Bumblebee, was having a lot of trouble coping. He hid the feelings well, but although Prowl wasn't good with his own emotions, he could read others like a billboard.

Prowl wished he could have seen Jazz doing work. Between Ironhides constant boasting of the TIC and Jazzs own stories, Prowl wanted to know just how the mech killed the seeker trine, and managed to escape with only a stab to the spark chamber. A stab to the spark chamber that Jazz had survived, and recovered from in record time, may he add.

It was impressive. Very much so, and it had Prowl wondering. Is a 'bot capable of surviving major wounds that would otherwise leave a 'bot offlined, if they were to activate their codes? How many lives could be saved from just that knowladge? However... The glitches that could come with it. Attacking comrades, virus, draw backs... Death, more harm then good, undoubtedly.

Prowl had only gotten the briefest glimpse of the seekers bodies before Ironhide took care of Jazz's mess placing the empty metals out of Prowls sight, most likely for Ratchet who would pick at the bodies later for spare parts, everyone knew how much the medic liked to take 'bots apart...

Prowl was among those cleaning up the area. Although he didn't think of himself as a cleaning type of mech, his overly neat processor got the best of him, OCD to the max, the Tactician was held helpless against his own mind, he had to clean, it was unorganized, disgusting. So there he was, broom in hand, staring at floorboards he couldn't even see.

There weren't many working on the project at hand. Half of the Autobots were bedridden or incapable of completing a simple task, leaving Prowl, Optimus, Ironhide, Hound Blaster and Elita to suffer through the tragic four feet deep pits of... Stuff...?

His back struts were already aching even though he had been working for only an hour, well, not really working, all he did was move a few beams off to the side so he could get at the floor... But the pain may have been a late result from the explosion. After all, Prowl had landed flat on his back, right on his door wings.

He hadn't felt a thing after, probably adrenalin, a week ago? he felt nothing, but now? His wings, back, and neck were damn near killing him. He found himself stopping every other minuet to massage his wires, maybe it was the explosion, maybe it was the way he recharged.

Oh, and did he recharge. Back curled into his future mate Prowl had had the best recharge he had ever had. It wasn't the most comfy position, but just having Jazz close to him, his arms locked around his lower stomach, head rested so lightly against the crook of his neck, yeah, that hit the spot.

He was looking foreword to another 'cuddle' session soon, perhaps, after cleaning? Maybe he could get Jazz to give him a nice wing massage... Oh, and was Jazz good with wings, the mech loved them, had an obsession with them or something. More then once Prowl had awoken to Jazz gently stroking the length of his black and white door wings, and more then once Prowl had purred to it.

Jazz was just so... Soft, kind in his touches, as if he could calculate every little problem with Prowls body and with just the featherist of touch banish all his pain. Prowl never knew the mech could be so compassionate, and to be honest, Prowl didn't know how much he craved touch until it was presented to him on a silver platter, literally.

Because Jazz was silver.

Snorting at his own corny joke, Prowl stared at the broom in his hand. Love. Like those in sparkling tales, a knight in shining armour to swoop in and save the femme in distress, rescue her and save her from the evil predicon.

Not that Prowl thought of himself as a femme... But, in retrospect, Prowl had never know just how... Lonely he was until Jazz came along. They had always been friends since the start, back in starters school when Prowl was just a little sparkling, but when he gave him that drink, that dance, he became more then just a lifetime friend. He became the love of a lifetime.

"You alright Prowl?" Slowly coming back from his imaginary land of Jazz, Prowl looked up to see Ironhide in his vision, what looked to be a table slung over his back. Ironhide was searching his optics, looking for something. but the only 'something' Prowl could provide was a small, dazed nod. Ironhide mumbled under his breath, fixing the table on his back by jumping slightly. Looking down, the red mech went back to work, rolling a beam with his feet. Saving the second trip over... Where was all this going anyway?

He didn't have time to think on that, actually, he had all the time in the world but there was just so much to do that the SIC didn't even know where to start. He couldn't lift tables because of his back, therefore large garths of metal would do him no absolutely good either.

Sweep duty, it became the TICS job, his fixation for the next few hours, sweeping the dust and mini metal shavings from what he could see of the floor, he'd have to find a mop somewhere to clean up all the dried energon before his metals attracted it all.

He had the motions down by five minuets, sweep, sweep, put in a pile, find more, sweep, sweep, add to the pile, then transfer the miniature debris into a bag, then start all over again.

If Jazz were here, he would make a dance out of this.

Stalling in his movements, Prowl thought on it, Jazz would make a dance out of it, but why? Because It was fun? To pass the time? Both?

Biting the inside of his cheek, Prowl looked around, sure that nobot was looking at him. Grasping the wooden broom tightly in hand, Prowl attempted to put himself in Jazzs mind frame, he would be here for a while, why not try it?

Sweep-sweep, bruuush. Sweep-sweep.

Prowl hummed, it seamed okay, but armature. Ironhide could come up with a better tune then that.

Lifting the broom from the floor, Prowl inspected the pile. Maybe add just a little more beat to it? He lifted the tip of his pede, then brought it down lightly.

Thump.

Sweep-sweep. Thump. Brush. Sweep-sweep. Thump. Thump.

His taps became a bit louder.

Thump. Thump. Brush. Thump. Sweep-sweep. Thump.

Prowl grabbed the bag of dust and dirt he had been sweeping the piles into.

Thump. Sweep. Thump. Brush. Sweep-sweep, ruffle ruffle chiing!

"Prowl, there yo- what are you doing?Are you dancing, Prowl?" Looking up from the floor, tacticians optics met with those of a tired out medic, Ratchet. Whatever the mech was doing outside the Medbay Prowl didn't know, but it must have been important for him to leave his work and seek Prowl out and Prowls immediate answer to his query was a caught, drawled. "Uhh..."

Picking the broom up so it hovered from the ground and rested in his servos, Prowl turned to his CMO, trying to mask his unease by a simple. "No."

The medic shook his helm, Probably thinking Jazz was really getting to him. Clearing his throat, Prowl twitched a door wing.

"Yes Ratchet? Is there something you need?" Last nights occurrences were still lingering in the tacticians thoughts, giving him a slight bite to his tone. Ratchet, however, smiled at the almost cocky attitude, coming to a stop a few feet away. He looked over the room, then back to Prowl. Smile still there, the medic responded.

"You can't seriously still be holding a grudge for that." Hardly able to hold back the small sideways down tilt of his door wing, Prowl looked down at the broom, setting it to the floor to resume his cleaning. Deliberately ignoring the medic, but after a minuet, Prowl sighed.

"No. I understand that what happened last night was just a diversion to get our minds off of the real. But that is not the reason you came, is it?" The small smile Ratchet had been wearing drew thin, at this, Prowl realized that it was much more serous then he had originally let on, setting the cleaning tool off the the side, Prowl gave Ratchet his undivided attention.

"What I came for is about Jazz. His processors been showing side effect readings, from all activation, he is still in recharge so I don't know exactly what exactly these spinoffs are, I wanted to let you know first simply because you will probably be with him more then the others." Interested, Prowl shifted closer to the medic, optics lingering on his optics before shifting down to his hands, expecting a data pad on Jazzs condition.

"Thank you for informing me, these, Side effects, are they... harmful?" Shaking his helm, Ratchet activated a side panel on his arm, a small body view of Prowls lover, Jazz pixilated itself before their optics, lines connecting to different points of his processor.

"Not that I know of, this hasn't happened a lot in recent, and even fewer times back on cybertron. The worse we could expect is violent mood swings." Ratchet pointed out a few different slabs of the lines that meant absolutely nothing to the door winger, studying the hologram, Prowl gave a nod.

"Is it permanent?" A sigh answered the tactician, zooming in on a certain part of Jazzs pixilated processor, Ratchet pointed to a small chip that would have otherwise remain unseen, covered up by the mechs audio horn.

"To be honest? I don't know. I fear that it may be. But although he may not want it, Jazz will need some help coping. As far as I know there was no... Mutations done to him, so he should act normal, no stutter, no slurred speech..." Ratchet could have gone further, but the look a Prowl had shot him made the medic close his mouth quickly. Unsure what to do next, Ratchet played around with the little hologram, making Jazz spin in circles. After a minuet the CMO straitened, looking Prowl over. Ratchet cleared his throat, pointing at the chip.

"Since your not a medic, I wouldn't think you know what this is." The lingering stare at Ratchet was product, spinning the model, Ratchet continued.

"See this corner bit here? Yes? Its fried- melted, during the activation i can only assume the wound to his sparkchamber overloaded the frequency, it was most likely the reason why Jazz had attacked us. We could fix it, but that would require a complete personality rewind, we could operate on it so it has a second layer, but something could go wrong leaving more harm then good.

"I'm tempted to leave it be and have him relax, to give his systems a chance to cope with the wound, and only if the chip shows drastic signs we would resort to trying to restore it~ otherwise, Jazz would just have to deal with the side effects." Prowl gave a brisk nod, showing that yes, he had been following on what the mech was saying. Un crossing his arms from the thoughtful position he had been in, Prowl looked over the pixel Jazz.

"I see. I'll do my best to help him through this. And I am sure the others would't mind helping as well. Ratchet? What time will he be released?" Ratchet snorted, brushing a few lines of dust that had fallen from the gaping hole in the celing onto his shoulder.

"The mech will probably go crazy when he wakes up, but I want to have him out by tonight." Giving a nod, Prowl turned back to look at the broom, now that they were talking about Jazz, Prowl didn't really want to continue with his duty. Ratchet spoke up from behind him, his tone soft.

"Perhapse you should come back to the medbay and get a look over at yourself, you may be trying to hide it, but I know something's aching." It was utterly random, but ever the truth. Prowl grumbled, pulling his shoulders back only for them to crack loudly, proving Ratchet right.

On second thought... Brooming seamed a lot more pleasing then a check-up...

"That will have to wait. I have duties here helping clean this mess. But tonight, possibly?" Ratchet rolled his optics, Prowl wouldn't be Prowl if he didn't put something off for the greater good of the Autobots. Even if it was his own problem. The issue? Was actually holding the tactician to it.

"Fine, but if you're not in by nine I'm calling Wheeljack to pull you in, no mercy." The tone in which mercy was said left no questions. If Prowl didn't show up, he would be dragged in and probably taken apart. Not wanting to bet the medic, Prowl just nodded, practically dismissing the CMO.

He was already leaving, so Ratchet hadn't seen his nod, looking back down at the floor, a firmilliar line wormed its way into his processor.

Its going to be a long night.

Silent. The only thing he could hear was the slight hum of his own rebooting systems. Dark. With his visor offline Jazz was surrounded by it. The fact didn't bother him, what bothered him, was that his arms were empty.

Jazz's brilliant visor flashed online, the lights were dull, Practically off. His vision trailed to his arm where it hung loosely over an empty berth. He wasn't expecting Prowl to stay, but it would have been nice to wake up to him there.

Jazz waited a minuet for his processor to fully come online before he managed to get himself into a seated position. He laid his helm back against the wall, staring at the celling.

Unsure what to do, the TIC just stared, lost in space, nothing particular coming to his mind. He couldn't exactly do anything but sit and twiddle his thumbs. He felt fine, he wanted to get up, sitting here was doing him no good. He'd end up rusting before late.

Looking down at his chassis, Jazz lifted a servo, fingers lightly touching the scar there. His paint was trash, that was for sure, as he poked and prodded at the newly attained battle scar, little flakes of white paint trickled from the outside of the wound and onto his legs. Leaving bare silver streaks.

He didn't know why he did it, maybe because there was nothing else to do? Possibly, it could have been something else though, but Jazz continued to pick at the paint, using his other servo to sweep the flakes into a pile on his legs.

Eventually, Jazz had scratched a side ways smiley face onto his spark chamber, he wanted to add a second on the other side, but he couldn't, the reason?

His servos were shaking, he wasn't doing it on purpose, but they were shaking, he couldn't keep them still long enough to not mess up. It was like telling a newborn to stop crying, it wasn't going to happen. Unless it was a smart newborn, but most human babies weren't to big on the brainpower, unless they were superman, like a baby superman. That would be cool? just like the movies.

Why exactly did he just think that? It seamed his servos weren't the only thing going a mile a minuet.

He stared at his hands in wonder, watching as they rocked back and forth before him, his helm tilted. Was it nerves? No, he wasn't nervous, did he need to get out that bad?

It came on like lightning, but left the TIC baffled, his servos picked up speed, until they stilled on their own and then...

His left arm yanked back, right into his lower stomach, all on its own.

"Ah really gatta get out'a here." Jazz voiced to himself in a low murmur, optics finding their way back to his servos, which were no longer shaking. It was the weirdest thing that had really ever happened to him.

"Calm down Jazz!"

"Calm down? Calm down? Ah've been stuck in 'ere for like, two weeks! Ah need ta move! Let meh out Ratchet!" Jazz's frame gave off a light shiver, which resulted in his shoulders jolting up into the air in some kind of twitch.

"See? Ah'm twitchin' over here! Ya gatta let meh out!"

"No, Jazz... Stay still for a second for me. I don't think its because of your energy." Jazz gave the medic a look.

"What? O' course its cause'a mah energy, wha'-"

"Just sit still." Ratchet commanded in a tone that suggested Jazz better not talk back, and so, Jazz held his frame still, after a minuet of holding himself steady, Jazz frame began to heat up a little, like a warning. It got to the point where his cooling fans kicked on, then out of no where his left leg jerked into the air nearly hitting Ratchet.

Jazz snapped his helm up to the medicsz "Ah didn' do tha'"

The medic sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, he turned around to avoid showing the SIC his conclusion. "I know Jazz." He said softly, going to his computer.

"I was afraid this would happen." He began typing with fast and speedy movements a computer gamer would be jealous of. His blue optics scanning the screen.

"Wha' woul'?" Jazz responded, leaning up from his spot trying to peak over the medics shoulder to see what he was typing; no luck, he was blocking the screen.

"Your systems suffered a fry from the code overload, your going to have a few side effects... I'm not sure for how long." Now Jazz, being himself, didn't get angry, his face twisted though as the pieces slowly fitted themselves into place. He sat back, shoulder slumping.

"Will ah be able ta go back ta duty?" There was a hint of worry in his voice, not enough for Ratchet to hear, though. The medic grunted, pausing in his typing, thinking, his fingers began moving again.

"Not yet, I need to see how far this goes, your cleared from my medbay, but not for duty. If you don't feel right or you start hurting come strait back."

Jazz didn't need to be told twice, with a little bit of a sullen atmosphere the TIC slowly slid himself from the medical berth, fingers lingering on the metal.

He was a bit shaky on his pedes, being off them for what had to be two weeks now. It took him a minuet to get back into his normal stride.

Side effects? Twitching? It was just a little twitch... Nothing to much, it wouldn't hinder him from going on patrol. Unless while he was driving he just happened to convulse off the road.

A little smile touched his lips at the thought of his alt mode just chilling, driving down the road, when all the sudden it started to vibrate, then bounce cartoonishly off the road.

He snorted, basically making fun of himself. A little optic roll under his visor came after the snort.

He walked from medical bay, and for some reason he didn't quite feel like going to the others. There was a heavy weight in his spark, maybe it was from what Ratchet told him, maybe not. But for some reason, some unknown, horrible reason, The fun-loving, outgoing party animal Jazz didn't want to be crowded at that moment.

So he turned for his quarters.

EA/N: yes, somewhat of a shorter chapter then I'm used to the ending may have been a bit shaky, so I appolguise for that. But still, review!oh and happy Memorial Day everyone!


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N thanks for waiting for this chapter guys. I'm going to be busy for a little while so you may have to wait once again, I got myself a job interview tomorrow, and hopefully, I'll finally get one! **

**Shout outs**: Terig. Kkcliffy. Igeegeei and Autobot Chromia. **Thank you guys for reviewing, and I hope you like this chapter.**

**And a big thank you for ****Autobot Chromia****! She helped me out a little with this chapter, somewhat. :D**

**Warnings: The word Herpies is said a few times so if you don't like that, uh... Don't read?**

**Disclaimer: Dont own transformers.**

**Rating: T**

**Review!**

The dark corridors seemed to swallow him whole, seeping inside his seams, projecting back a sorry, pitiful excuse of himself for him and everyone around him to see. It wasn't like the Decepticon lord to feel isolated on his own ship, so useless. For pit sake he was _the_ Decepticon, _the_murderer, _the_ feared, _the one_ you wouldn't want to be caught alone with. But on the inside... He was just as lost as a blind deer, he couldn't see the headlights, couldn't find the walls.

His red optics gave off a fluorescent pink tint, not the usual '_I am Megatron._' Tint, but a different shade, a look that portrayed him years, vorns younger then he was. It made him look... Innocent. In some kind of twisted, evil way. He carried himself like he usually would. Shoulders high, nose up, the kind of posture that addressed the lessers, causing them to bow their helms and twiddle their thumbs. Ah yes, on the outside he remained threatening, dark, glorious, merciless. But on the inside... He was just an empty shell.

He had killed countless Autobots without a hint of remorse, watched his own army offline without a second glance. He had killed his own, beaten his own, and punished his own. That's just how Megatron was. It was his nature, he was known for it. It was a habit that could never be broken, a goal never fully reached. He had been to the pit and back, met Unicron, and he had come out of it _alive_. He was_the_ demon, _the_ resurrection, _the_ devil. He would stand his ground, alone or not.

But seamed the very ground he tredded upon was crumbling, viscously pulled out from underneath him. Before him, he saw a battle raging on, lives lost, scars made, he saw Prime, readying his final swing, a swing that would take him out and force him down. He was going to fall, and this time...

Starscream wouldn't be there to catch him.

Of course, why else would he be like this? So void and alone? He might be the Decepticon lord, but even he himself had feelings. Not many, if only negative, but they were there, and sometimes easy to see. Did you think it was because he lost a winning battle? Being humiliated by the_saboteur_? No. Although that fact only increased his anger, it wasn't the reason. He had never felt so lost, so directionless without his second in command.

Starscream, however traitorous he was, earned his place eons ago. He earned that right to stand by Megatrons side and fight beside him. And yet, he should have been there now, yelling at him for such a 'cowardly retreat' taking the consequences like a real mech just to get his point across. But he wasn't there, Megatron was alone. And although he would never voice it, he _missed_ Starscream.

Starscream had always been there, either as Megatrons punching bag or his thought pool, he was there. And the warlord didn't know the extent of his feelings until that very life was pried away from him, taken, so ruthlessly, he never knew just how much he... Needed, yes, _needed_Starscream, until the moment he was gone.

Wasn't it obvious by now? Megatron had his attractions to Starscream. Yes, the mech had tried billions of times to get rid of him, millions of times to overthrow him, but that, _that_ was why the Decepticon leader liked him so much. It was his determination, the will to keep going even though his adversary was stronger then him. The way he would peruse something to the ends of the universe and never give up on it. It had made Starscream a worthy ally, and a deadly opponent, but now that he was gone he was somewhat...

_Alone_...

Megatron walked slowly down the Nemisis's hallways, no other place to be but the control room. Once or twice he imagined Starscream beside him, grumping, flexing those white wings in irritation, wagging his hands around along with his words. Megatron had to stop each time, shake his helm, and close his optics.

After the attack on the Ark, Megatron had ordered a retreat, a long... Long retreat. A vacation, if you will. He needed time, he needed time to think everything through and to push along without the mech he had taken for granted all these vorns. So long as the Decepticons remained hidden, not attacking, the Autobots would have no reason to peruse them. Hopefully.

All Megatron knew now was, as soon as that music loving Autobot showed his faceplates, Jazz was going to wish he had hidden himself away, he was going to strap the mech down, and slowly kill him. Tear him apart, scar him both mentally and physically, doing things Unicron, in his worse dreams would never imagine. It was only fair, he killed his potential mate... Revenge was a strong thing for Megatron, if he had to suffer, so did Jazz.

_Unless..._

"Eye for an eye." The Decepticon warlord mused to himself, a slight hum of thoughtfulness to his voice, his servo came up to cup his chin, digits scratching slow, ponderous lines.

"Tooth for a tooth.." He continued, almost in a song-song nature. The dark tint in his optics once again returned to what could only be described as 'Megatrons' color. A smile touched the tyrants lips, crooked teeth making themselves known through his cracked metallic lips. He took a few more steps foreword, lightbulb shining, his hands removed from behind him, clasping before him with a loud ping. Those worn servos rubbed together darkly, slowly.

"Mate for a mate."

"Might as well call meh twitchy tha twitcher."

"Jazz."

"Shakey tha shakes."

"Jazz please."

"Mr. Moves o'lot."

"Jazz. Stop that." Prowl chided, irritation evident in his voice. It had been like this for the past two hours. Jazz was in depression, and it was easy to see, but Prowl couldn't see the problem with Jazzs little twitches. Sure, they happened frequently, and sometimes they looked_really_ weird. But it was just a twitch, he was making a big deal about it.

"Why?" The TIC whined, he was sitting on his berth, the same spot he had been in for the past five hours. Prowl had gotten worried when he checked the medbay for his mate, and Ratchet told him Jazz wasn't there. And so, worried mate he may have been, he searched for him. First he checked the recreational room, however destroyed it may have been, that was the first place that had come to Prowls mind. but Jazz wasn't there, and if Jazz wasn't in the Rec. room, there was only one other place he could have been.

His quarters, so Prowl went there, only to find the missing mech face down in his berth, groaning like he was giving birth.

"Because." Prowl answered, doorwings jerking in time with the word. he continued, ignoring the look Jazz gave him at the snarky way he had said it.

"It isn't right to be downgrading yourself because of this. You're still Jazz." There was a moment of silence, Jazz didn't move, he continued to sit still, hands on his legs, face tilted down to stare at said legs. He looked deep in thought, wether it was because of Prowls words, or something else. Only Jazz knew.

"Ya." the saboture said after a moment of silence.

"Jazz tha' accidental crotch kicker." He continued briskly, his voice brittle and small. Prowl had to lean foreword to hear what he had to say, and when the SIC finally managed to make it out. Stupid looks were given.

"Jumpy Jazz jitterson tha' third." Jazz added promptly, his voice emotionless.

"The third?" Prowl questioned, a tilt to his helm, red cheveron glistening in the low light.

"Ya, my sire was'a jumpy mech." Jazz informed him, a little smile coming to his lips, that smile widened however, when a lightbulb lit within his visor. Prowl was glad to see that smile return, to be honest he was tired of that boring thin line, Jazz always smiled, no matter the situation.

"Sir Hebbijeebus." Jazz piped in, almost happily. Said mech tilted his helm towards his lover, to see his reaction, and what he saw was Prowls warm smile fading. All of Prowls previous thoughts left in a cartoonish puff, it was easy to see that Prowl was not amused.

"Are you _kidding_ me, Jazz?" The door winger drawled, then proceeded in slapping his face in some kind of violent face-palm. Jazz grinned at his reaction, hunching his shouldering giving him a hermit like look, his optics still turned to look at Prowl.

"Herba-jerba tha' herpie-derpy-Hemo." Prowl looked between his fingers at his white mate, the stupidest look on his face. Just when he thought Jazz's self downing nicknames couldn't get any worse, that had happened. A string of words that made absolutely no since. And to Prowl, only two words were understood.

"What the... Herba... Herpies? Jazz?"

"Herpies." Jazz nodded like it made complete since, he then barked out a laugh. "Do ya know wha' herpies is?" Jazz asked, his shoulders jerked back in yet another twitch, but it seamed to be ignored by them both.

"Yes- why? I don't even-?" he was cut off by yet another rapid mood swing from the TIC. Jazz dropped strait down from his sitting position, rolled onto his stomach and shoved his face into the white pillow at the head of his bed. It took the SIC a minuet to realize what happened, and He frowned, taking a step foreword. The SIC had been standing at the door the entire time, letting Jazz have his distance.

It had been like this on and off, Jazz was in some kind of emotional roller coaster, he would be happy one moment, then balling his optics out. The mood swings didn't bother Prowl. Jazz was unstable, everyone knew that, they were just worse off now then they ever had been.

No, it didn't bother him, but when Jazz had said '_ah'd be better off dead then twitchin' all o'er tha' place.' _ and _then_ decided to actually attempt to... You know, right in front of him. Prowl had made it his personal goal to watch over the mech. He was worried, he never though Jazz would resort to that, to anything like that. It just wasn't... Jazz

He sat on the edge of the bed, angling himself so one of his legs laid out on the berth, the other one hung off. His hand came up to pat his lovers back, rubbing down his spinal strut, then back to his neck, like giving a massage.

"Your going to be alright, Jazz. I promise." The saboteurs helm turned, half his blue visor visible from the sunken end of the pillow. He wasn't smiling, nor was he frowning, his lips were set in a that ugly small line.

"I dunno." He said uncertainly, his shoulders rising up when Prowl began to rub them with one of his hands. Said mech decided to treat Jazz, he stood up, then reached one leg over the berth, sitting on Jazzs aft, both servos became equipment, rubbing in unison up Jazzs back to his shoulders. He slipped his digits in between the gaps of his armour, not in a turn on kind of way, but to relax him.

"You will." Prowl whispered, he leaned down as far as he could, kissing the back of his lovers helm, then down to his neck while his thumbs rubbed his lower back. Jazz let out a loud, relaxed moan at this, tucking his hands under his stomach.

As long as Jazz was okay, as long as he was happy, not trying to harm himself or others... Prowl would be alright. It was self guilt, the SIC had told himself over and over, the reason Jazz had threatened such a thing. Self hate, from when he had tried to harm Optimus, and knocked Ironhide out, then smacked Ratchet right down on his aft.

Self guilt.

"Can ya go a little lower Prowlie?" Prowl hummed softly, working his fingers down to the tip of his leg plaiting, he ignored the nickname all together, if Jazz wanted to call him that, he could.

_Just please don't hurt yourself_.

He was scared, Prowl really was. He had never been through this before, even with his countless siblings so long ago. They had all been raised right, they hadn't been poor, or miss treated. To be honest, Prowl had never knew the word 'Sueside' until his first year on earth when Spike had said something about it.

If Jazz was becoming like this, then it would be a bigger problem then he had thought. A therapist, maybe. It only seamed right.

"Prowl." The SIC shook his helm, staring at the saboteurs sideways's helm, half his visor hidden in the pillow. There wasn't a frown, not a smile. That dreaded line was back, and it looked as if it didn't want to go anywhere.

Prowl said nothing, but Jazz continued knowing he had his mates full and undivided attention.

"I.." He broke off, becoming uncharistically shy, he shoved his face back into the pillow, his hands shifting from under his stomach to under his face.

"Ah think ah'm loosin' my mind." Jazz groaned out, his voice sounding on the edge of tears. Prowl didn't know what to say to him. No amount of words would stop Jazz from feeling like he was, he could give the mech all the comfort in the world, all the attention he could ever give, and Jazz would still be like this. Prowl thought, as well. That Jazz was slowly losing his mind. From what he had witness that day anyone would write him off for crazy and send him to some kind of mental hospital. But Prowl wouldn't, he would never do that.

"Maybe you need to get out, to see people." Prowl suggested, fingers cupping his mates neck, pushing down with his palms, tips of his digits sinking softly into the wires.

"Ain't nobody wanna see me." Prowl stopped in his movements, concern reaching an all time high, he slid off his mates back, and sat him up, and then the SIC proceeded in sitting before the unstable mech, gripping both his hands, staring into his dulled blue visor.

"Jazz. If I want to see you, everyone else will. They miss you, I know, and they are worried about you. Between the medbay and here, you've been hiding out on them all. And that isn't the Jazz they know. Since... The death of our friends, Bluestreak and your survival has lightened them, just a little bit." Jazz looked down, refusing to make optics contact, his shoulder slumped and his chin grazed against his neck.

"Ah know.." Jazz confessed, a sharp sigh leaving him, he brought his knees to his chest, tucking his chin between them. Prowl still held onto his servos, trying to get Jazz to look at him.

"Ah jus'..."

"Jazzy." Prowl crooned softly, in a comforting manor, Jazzs helm finally snapped up to look at him, his visor bright with surprise. He opened his mouth to say something but Prowl was already speaking.

"I know you are feeling insecure, I know your in a terminal, a merry go round of emotions, if you will. But staying here and brooding will do you no good. You need to get out. Please, I'll stay with you, I won't leave your side and if you feel uncomfortable, we can come back." The surprise in the white mechs optics slowly wore down, his hand came up to drag down his face In a stressful kind of way, and then, he peeked through his fingers, a small, ghost of a smile there.

"Ah'll go." Jazz said, but the way he spoke it suggested he would want something in return, Prowl waited, willing to do anything at this point.

"If ya keep callin' me 'Jazzy.'" How did he know that was going to happen? Actually, why on earth did he say his name like that in the first place? It slipped out, no doubt, and Jazz had caught it...

"Fine." Prowl nodded with the word, doorwings looping up, making him look a bit happier, he slid off the berth, pulling his mate along with him. When the two were standing, Prowl took a chance, pressing his chassis to Jazz and lightly butterfly kissing him with his nose.

"I won't let anything happen to you, Jazzy." Said mech smiled largely, his visor flashing in what could only be determined as happiness, the SIC leaned foreword and pecked Prowls lips, squeezing his hands.

"An' ah, you."


	11. I'm back

**Hello guys! This is Soundwave here. I'd like to appolguise for my absence with this little chapter. With school, and with some bad family stuff. But I'm just letting all you followers of the fanfiction know I'm back. And since I just recently acquired a new phone, I have to re write my last chapter. By the weekend it will be posted. Thanks for your guys's patience with all this. Thank you for reading, and have a nice week!**

**-Soundwave.**


	12. Chapter 11

**A/N: Finally I've finished! I've been itching to make a new chapter and its finally come along. Again, I'd like to appolguise for the wait to my readers out there. But the breaks given me some time to think about where exactly I want to go with this fanfiction. And if you stick it out, I'm sure you'll be happy with the results. **

**P.s. To be honest here guys,**

**I'm unsure of the G1 humans. I'm okay with Spike and Sparkplug, but I feel like I can do better with those in my time... So I'm adding President Obama (not mine, don't own him xD) to the list. Enjoy the new chapter! And make sure to leave you're feedback! :***

**Rating: T**

**Warnings: a wild bunch I must say... Oh, and a bad rap on Helen Keller. I say sorry in advance to all you... Helen Keller lovers. And a little love at the end of the chapter. **

**Shoutouts: Terig, Kkcliffy, Igeegeei Autobot Chromia. Thanks for sticking it out so long guys. :D**

**And now... The chapter!**

**Different direction. Part 11.**

A slender, yet large starship slowly crawled through the blackness of space, the wings spread out horizontally, thin, sleek. The wingspan was larger then the width of the ship itself. The silver aircraft cruised along, undergoing a constant speed rate. It looked almost undamaged, despite being being active for quite sometime. It hadn't been though a battle. But it was clearly ruffled enough to show that Astral storms had taken no mercy on its older frame.

It's bright silver pattern had lost its assembly line shine. The reflection dimmed from the natural light of the moons and suns they passed. Highlighted with bright yellow paint, the only new looking spot on the starship, laid gleaming freshly painted name. '_Judgment_.' It was called, renamed from it's former royal Decepticon heritage of '_Decadence_' the purple symbol had been delicately removed, and in its place rested an even larger Autobot symbol.

The cockpits windows were tinted a dark blue. From the inside, only swift gestures and movements could be seen from the other side. And on the very edge, through the narrowest and last window, their was upper outline of a bulky frame.

Upon closer inspection, and a glimpse into the other side of those tinted windows, showed a tall, built sandy yellow mech. His glowing orange-red optics onlooking out the window before him. His colors suggested he was a decepticon: yet the proud red Autobot symbol on his chassis said otherwise. The person of interest turned, optics scanning his comrades before him.

"This isn't it. The coordinates don't add up." The sandy mech said, turning his attention from the wall to the drivers seat. There was a sound of protest, to the left, a black and white Autobot groaned, while he leaned his helm back and off the top of the chair. His optics were bright blue, armour filed down to smooth rounded points.

"_Again_?" The black and white offender whined, painfully obvious to the irritated fact. It had been four years, _four_ years of searching for this long distance signal they'd gotten of Optimus prime. Four years of searching for this 'earth' without a working GPS system, they were literally...

"Running on a blind here." The police mech concluded with a rapid lip twitch. The sandy mech shot the sitter a heated glare, while he strode from the comfort of his window to the middle point of the stage room, where the controls of the ship were held.

"Stakeout, Don't start." He demanded, tone harsh, the obvious group leader curled his nose, his arms crossed to avoid any rude pointing or gesturing.

"It's true though, Flak." A third voice rose, naming the sandy mech on the dot. The third voice was lower, a dreamy sound that could make the strongest of femmes swoon. A lime green colored frame came into view. His facial structure perfectly rounded, perfectly shaped to make up for his horrid paint coloring. He had similar yellow optics to Flak's, that bled on almost hungrily for an argument.

"We're driving around in the dark without headlights, Ask _Hellen Keller_ here." The attention turned to _Judgments_' pilot, who was pointed out by the offender, named Landmine. At first glance of the pilot, one could tell he was no ordinary transformer. He may not have had a special power, but the way he dressed said otherwise.

Yes, dressed. The Autobot seated in the cockpits head seats appearance was similar to whom the humans called _Death_, or _The Grim Reaper_. He wore a thick grey silk robe that covered from helm to toe. By the silver frame visible beneath the robe, the driver wore no armour: just his protoform.

The top half of his face was hidden behind a yellow, red trimmed skull mask, the large optics screens changed colors, from pink to blue.. yellow to green, the color never stayed the same for long. From one look, one would ask. 'How can he see through those lights? Wouldn't he have epilepsy?' The answer? Well...

He didn't see at all.

The driver, Named Scythe, had been sparked blind. With his handicapped state he was unable to see, so he used the large goat like horns that sprouted from the hood on his helm as audial trackers, strong enough to basically see everything around him just by the air placement, and the way the particles bowed into each nook and cranny of every object within their range.

He had never seen colors, never seen another's face, yet, he'd been acting as _Judgment's_ pilot for four years now, when their exposition had first began.

"Say you not judge thy blindness, but gaze upon thy skills." Scythe noted, well aware of the rudeness. It had been going on for so long, Scythe had gotten used to it. These mechs were like his brothers, it was impossible to stay mad... That didn't mean he had to like it.

His voice had wavered from high pitched to low. A truly insane sound that would itch the spine of any mech, and cause even Optimus Prime to question his sanity. The crew members around him didn't seam bothered by the mid-evil way the other Autobot spoke, after four years... They'd gotten used to the speech pattern.

Four years, four years, four years... It seamed those two words came up a lot. How could it not? Their patience was running thin, along with their dwindling resources. For only five tanks to fuel, a mini cargo holder's fuel could only last so long...

Arguments had started, and a little rivalry had gained. Scythe and Flak against Stakeout and Landmine. Cyclonus, an ex Decepticon much like the sour, yet handsome lime mech to the side, Stood off in the distance, never commenting, but observing. For four years he had kept himself quiet, the Autobots needed his expertise for the knowledge he possessed. _He_ was no ordinary transformer...

...But of course, the crew didn't know that.

"Can't someone else drive?" Landmine cried, desperately trying to get the stubborned Flak to cave in.

"Like me? I'm a good driver." He concluded, Scythe scoffed from his spot, still in his hunched position. "Thy hath trouble telling thee ignition hole from thy jump start latch. I, as blind, can navigate better then ye, I bid you." His horns tilted a little, as if portraying his mirthfilled mood.

"Blasphemy! Thou'st rival against thee?" He question, he was once again called out by Landmine, another blind insult was thrown, and Scythe blocked it with the cold shoulder.

"Landmine, Scythe... please." Flak tried, raising his hands in surrender if that was to calm the vain mech's ticking time bomb attitude. The lime mech's glare switched to the sand colored leaders frame, where it lingered for a few tense seconds.

"I'll work on that GPS. Doubt it'll do anything." He said darkly, revenge clear, he turned in his spinny chair to face the multiple pull-out access panels. His fingers wiggled before the buttons, before he leaned foreword to start his possibly harmful testing.

"We're all stupid anyway, can't even get the frickin' _wires_ right." Landmine concluded in a self-focused mumble, before retreating to silence.

Flak decided to ignore the insult, as long as Landmine was occupied long enough to shut up for a minuet. It would be okay.

The leader, and Tactican turned his longing gaze from his crew to Cyclonus, who stood in as shadows before the stage room's door. His arms were crossed, red optics squinted intensely. Without so much as a word the purple ex Decepticon turned and retreated into the shared quarters branch of the small ship.

Flak watched him go, his yellow optics lingering on the abandoned spot by the door. Then, he turned to address the others.

"Bring her up, we'll try the Dekus Galaxy. If we're lucky, we'll find someone who can fix this piece of slag."

There were times where Optimus Prime doubted his leadership. Where he thought once or twice, '_did I make the right choice?' _He'd always wanted what was best for both his crew, and the humans. The officer party had sounded like a good idea. His Autobots needed a break from the war. But it seamed... He'd let his guard down. At the cost of the lives of five of his crew. Of his family.

He blamed no one but his own judgment. The Decepticons had failed to attack for months... They'd gotten off track, believing it was safe when it just may have been exactly what Megatron was waiting for.

A night where no one was ready.

It had been the final straw for Optimus Prime. One to many times he had allowed a fellow Autobot to give their lives for the cause. A sacrifice everyone here would have selflessly made. To protect what they believed in, or to go down trying.

There were ways they could have avoided that. Since their arrival on earth the Autobots had remained sitting ducks in a pond shared closely by their enemy. They were a spot on the map. They needed to take a different approach, they needed the upper hand. Many were still recovering, and Optimus doubted Megatron wasn't doing the same. He had lost a comrade the Autobot leader had known was close.

Weeks, months... Years, it was impossible to tell just how long the Decepticons would remain idle. They had to prepare.

Optimus stopped in his office pacing, and lifted a hand to his comm. link.

"Officers and stable autobots please report to the main ops room."

Prowl cursed under his breath, they had made it halfway to the Rec. room, they had been so close. Jazz's face twisted at the comm, and Prowls direction imedetly changed. Hands released, the two officers steadily made their way to the main ops room.

Main ops was the second biggest room aside from the control room, non-private meetings and shameless talking had been held there. Either or, it was an important room. no one could leave the Ark without passing through it, and no one could enter. Somewhere in Prowls slowed mind he doubted Optimus was calling for a chit-chat session.

They Arrived early, giving, how Ironhide, Perceptor, and Wheeljack were the only others there. Ratchet came in behind them, The twins, Bluestreak, and Elita behind the medic.

Optimus stood himself in the back centre of the room, and awaited the arrival of the able, and finally, when the doors closed emitting Hound, Tracks, and Infero to the group, Optimus spoke.

"Autobots." He began, his voice just as powerful as the day Prowl remembered first meeting him.

"We've gone through tough and dangerous times, and I can only thank you for staying this long..." There were a couple sympathetic murmurs from the crowed of accumulated autobots, Optimus waited for them to quiet to continue.

"I've set up a meeting with President Obama, which will take place Tomorrow evening. I've decided we need the element of surprise. And i need the united state's permission to move foreword with this approach. " His optics scanned his crew members, and he paused for only a second to let his voice carry. He waited for any protestors, and when no one outspoke, Optimus continued.

"I feel we must move the _Ark_~" Optimus got no further, protests and comments filled the air.

"How are we going to move the _ark_?" Perceptor asked, his voice being the clearest, and easiest to pick out from the incoherent voices. "It's been immobile for... Years, we don't nearly have enough energon to bring the ship airlift." Optimus cleared his throat loudly, gaining their attention. He continued where he left off.

"Megatron has known our location for to long, it's time we gain an advantage. The Decepticons need time to recover from our even blows. We _MUST_ take that time to prepare ourselves. Ill be sending teams of three on scouting missions across the globe to scout for energon mines, as well as interstellar missions. Wheeljack, it's in my understanding that you've been working on a starship?" The attention went from Optimus to the blue finned inventor, who's audial fins flashed at the attention. He gave a brisk nod.

"I've been working on one, but the blueprints aren't finished. It's going to take some time." Optimus nodded, his optics scanned the autobots before him, analyzing the newest data.

"Perceptor, Grapple, Work with Wheeljack and help him gain the items he needs. Ratchet." His optics softened when they reached his old friends, his tone shifted.

"Work on a cloaking generator, Prowl, I need you to create an active energon hunt list. This needs to be done soon. Ironhide, Inferno, you both will accompany me to the white house tomorrow evening." he once again paused, taking the time to capture each one of his soldiers faces, and their reactions. No more deaths, Bumblebee's had finally crushed him, he was unwilling. They needed to win this, at least, they needed to try.

"Autobots, our break is over. Ready yourselves for the worse, because I won't sweeten it for you. From here on out, it will not get better."

There was nothing worse then dead silence. In a spark matter, there were plenty of things worse then silence, but to Prowl, right now, it had to be the worse.

The walk back to his private office had been full of cut conversations, wondering optics, and distance. He felt like Jazz was already gone. He missed him.

Of course, Prowl understood wholly why the saboteur was acting this way. Prowl was going to be busy, from here on out. Or, for at least a couple of days.

The lead tactician didn't like the silence, and he didn't like the curt 'goodbye' his potential mate had made when the SIC reached his destination.

"Jazz. Come here." Prowl demanded softly, in a way that suggested he could leave if he wanted, but he shouldn't. Jazz turned from the door and looked to Prowl, his visor dimmed unnaturally, there was no smile.

"What ya need, Prowler?" Jazz questioned, slowly side stepping his way back into the room. Once the TIC was in reach, the police mech imedetly embraced him in a hug.

Jazz melted at the touch.

"Please, stay. If only for the night. I'm worried about you." Jazz's vents let out a puff of air. He held back tight, as if at any moment Prowl would be pulled away.

"Alright. Ah'll stay." Jazz said, backing up a bit, but he kept his hands in place on Prowls shoulder. The two touched forehelms, where they remained for several seconds. Just basking in each others presence.

"Ah've always liked ya." Jazz said suddenly, the sentence giving Prowl a little jolt of butterfly's merging from the pit of his stomach, he swallowed.

"You- really?" A nod answered him, a soft hand skidded down his arms metals, touching almost every gap, until it reached the door wingers hand.

"Ah'ave. since.. Grade school, anyway." Prowl's engine gave a putter, and his mouth gupped open, like an organic fish, but only for a second. Then, he turned his helm away.

"I didn't even know what dating was in grade school." He admitted, that smile came back full force. And Jazz gave a little chuckle, taking things into his own servos, he directed Prowl to the berth. Yes, the SIC had a berth in his work office. For those long night of work... His actual quarters had hardly been used.

"Course ya didn't ya was too focused on gettin' A's in all yer classes." Prowl didn't protest when the white mech sat him down. He simply reached out and wrapped his arms around his crush's waist, and pulled him closer so his knee plates touched Prowls own. Jazz leaned down, separating the SIC's legs, to make room for his own.

Prowl looked up at him, and traced his hand over his visor. A frown touched his face.

"Does that... Come off?" He asked, well aware that he might have touched a soft spot. However, the energetic, jumpy mech simply rolled his shoulder, hiding yet another twitch with a simple reaction. Prowl had seen him do it several times.

"Ya, it comes off. But my optic sight is horrible, mech. If I take it off all I see 'er blurr's. an' I ain't wanna see ya as a blob." Prowl smirked, cupping the others face, he slowly brought his helm down once again to touch his own.

"Did you play a lot of video games as a sparkling?" Prowl questioned. Jazz 'pfft'd. His visor flashed, suggesting he had rolled his optics.

"As a sparklin'? I still play video games. Imma master man, ain't no body gonna beat me." Though, Prowl could have said something to it, he chose to just smile and nod in a way that suggested he was right. Though, it was probably one of the main reasons why his optic sight was so bad.

"Come here Jazzy." He crooned, pressing their faces closer together. Jazz chose to hop up on Prowls lap for better access, he wrapped his legs around the police mechs back, and leaned in once more.

Prowl skimmed his lips again Jazz's, teasing the mech, before he dove in to capture his lips. After three seconds of exploring, tasting, feeling, Jazz pulled away and smirked.

"We ain't gonna sleep tonight, are we?" This time, Prowl couldn't help but chuckle, maybe a bit darkly.

"There are other things..." He mumbled, licking up Jazz's cheek, to his audio horn. Jazz shivered, though, it was not a twitch.

"Well..." Jazz breathed, he used his servo to direct the mech away from his horn, back to his lips.

"Let's get to it then, I like ya lips."

**E/AN: I'm sorry for cutting the interface scene short! I wanted to get this posted before the weekends over, and I've been sick, so I haven't been able to come up with a good enough scene for it, I hope ya guys ain't disappointed none. Ill see ya next update! Bye!**


End file.
